


Passing the Torch

by DaughterofElros



Category: Hockey RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Adoption, Coming Out, Family, Future, M/M, Marriage, Olympics, Paparazzi, Sid/Geno - Freeform, Winter Olympics, homophobia still exists, media attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:51:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterofElros/pseuds/DaughterofElros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sid knows that the cameras are probably on them, has heard terms like “Crosby-Malkin Olympic Dynasty” thrown around, has dutifully answered questions from interviewers and documentary film crews about how fortunate it is to have so much talent in one family. </p><p>He can pretty much ignore that right now though, because this is what’s important; Geno’s hand wrapped around his."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passing the Torch

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Liandria for the hand-holding, reassurance, feedback, and beta. I couldn't have done it without you!
> 
> Remaining mistakes are all mine!
> 
> More notes to be found at the end.

 

_February, 2034. Salzburg, Austria_

 

Sid checks his watch for the eleventh time, only vaguely aware of how the knee he’s bouncing nervously is knocking into Taylor’s leg. She offers a long-suffering sigh and elbows him back periodically even as she carries on a polite conversation with the woman in the seat next to her. Each time she does, Sid reigns himself in and forces himself to sit still for a moment or two, until his attention returns to the ice and he starts fidgeting again. He’s simultaneously too distracted and too focused to carry on a polite conversation, and he marvels at Taylor’s ability to do so. He’s not even playing, but he’s still a bundle of nervous energy, just like he is before the start of every game. Geno reaches over and lays his massive palm over his knee, stilling it.

 

“Relax, Sid,” he tells him patiently. “Everything okay.” Sid shoots him an intense look. After this many years though, Geno is more than able to withstand its power.

 

“It’s the Olympics, Geno.” He sounds a little on edge. “It’s a big deal.”

 

“I play in Olympics, Sid.” Geno reminds him patiently, “As much as you. I _know_ is big deal. We have many medals back home that prove, is big deal. But you not able to change game, Sid. Relax.” He slides his hand back over the dark denim of Sid’s jeans to twine his fingers with Sid’s, pressing their palms together.

 

“You do realize that Sid has no idea what that word means in relation to hockey, right?” Taylor shifts her attention to them and leans forward in her seat, her ponytail sliding over her shoulder.

 

“I know.” Geno grins, easy and affectionate. “Tell him anyway. Maybe one day, Sid listen.” Taylor snorts

 

“How are you not nervous?” Sid interrupts them. They have plenty of time to chirp him every other day of his life.

 

“I find making fun of my brother eases the tension.” Taylor checks him lightly with her shoulder. He huffs in response, but the fact is she’s right, as usual. It’s infuriating.

 

“I am very nervous,” Geno says easily. “You not helping.” He sounds more amused than annoyed though, so Sid just bites his lip, scanning the ice and the stands again.

 

“It feels weird.” He observes after a moment. “Being at the Olympics, but not on the ice. Not in the Village.”

 

“Tell me about it.” Taylor complains, glancing ruefully at her knee, and Sid knows that she’s thinking about the injury that ended her career less than a year after making the Olympic team for Barcelona, wondering if she might even still have been out on the ice today if things had gone differently.

 

“Could be worse.” Geno points out. “Sid rooting to hear ‘O Canada,” not have to betray own country by hope to hear other nation’s anthem. Lucky.” Sid grins a little at that, tightens his fingers around Geno’s, runs his thumb over Geno knuckles. It’s the little gesture that always makes Geno melt, and he grins back, knowing that they look ridiculous and not caring one damn bit.

 

“This is good though.” Sid murmurs. “Being here. With you. Rooting _with_ you, instead of competing against you. I always hated competing against you.” The confession eases something inside him.

 

“Much better now.” Geno agrees. “Want same thing. Root for Anna. With you.”

 

“Did you ever think we’d end up here?” Sid asks. “Way back when?” Geno shrugs and leans in to Sid.

 

“I think together, yes.” Geno says slowly. “I think I end up with you. Always you, Sid.” His voice drops, low and quiet so that no one else can hear them, intrude on the intimacy of the moment. “But this… being here like this… it is more than I ever hope. This make me proud- of Anoushka, of everything. Proud of _us._ Love you, Sid.” Sid’s feels his face soften at that, the tension and nerves dropping away by an expression so deeply, intensely full of love. He watches Geno’s face mirror his own and feel his heart skip a beat. Even after so many years, it gets to him, just how perfect that look is, how much it makes him feel. Sid tips his forehead to lean against Geno’s, and he catches Taylor watching them, the secret, approving smile on her face a pretty good indication of how ridiculous they’re being. They’re in a crowd, and there are probably half a dozen phones and a couple of TV cameras focused on them this very moment, but for once, Sid could care less.

 

“I love you too,” he murmurs in response, squeezing Geno’s hand. Geno’s fingers tightening reassuringly around his in return.

 

 He thinks back, remembering the first time he’d said those words. How terrified he’d been, and how in that moment, he’d never imagined that those words would lead them here. He honestly hadn’t believed they’d lead anywhere good at all.

 

____________________________________________________

 

 

_November, 2013. Pittsburgh._

 

This is it. The words are on the tip of Sid’s tongue, and this time, he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to rein them back in.

 

 He’s thought them so many times that they’re practically engraved on his brain. He’s come so close to saying them so many times- the worst possible times, though there’s never exactly an ideal opportunity to blow your life out of the water. He’s always managed to let common sense stop him in time, though; After their Cup win, and the time that Geno fell asleep on Sid’s shoulder watching a movie, and one time when they’d gone out with the team, and Sid had gotten drunker than he ever allowed himself too and hung all over Geno for most of the night...

 

There were a couple of times when Sid had been concussed and kind of tried to say it, but Geno had misunderstood and thought that he was just really grateful for Geno bringing him news about the team. And the times on the phone when Geno was in Russia over the summers and during the lockout and Sid missed him so damn much that he almost confessed it all, stopped only by the knowledge that if he did, Geno might never speak to him again, might just stay in Russia for good, not return to Pittsburgh, and he couldn’t handle that.

 

But it’s been getting harder to stay silent, and he’s not sure he can keep this secret anymore. It’s destroying him, crushing him with the weight of it, and he knows that he just has to get it out there and live with the consequences and move on, because he’s not going to be able to hold out much longer. And right now, in this moment, there’s no one to pull him back, or tell him that it hasn’t stopped being a bad idea, and there are no news cameras in his face or teammates hanging around, so this is maybe the best chance he’s going to get for a while.

 

In fact, it’s only the two of them, hanging out at Geno’s house. Geno’s asked him over to get Sid’s opinions on some renovations he’s thinking about making, and because he’s been wanting Sid to try some Russian dish that he swears is ‘best’. And even though it probably doesn’t fit exactly into his nutrition plan, Sid can’t deny Geno anything, so he’s here, sitting in Geno’s kitchen, sipping the glass of ice water that he dutifully accepted when Geno offered. Geno is over at the stove, stirring something that’s simmering gently. He’s barefoot, and the hair at the back of his neck is still slightly damp and curling from the showers they took at the rink. It makes Sid wish that he could just walk up behind him and press a kiss there, or let his fingers brush through Geno’s hair. And this is exactly the problem.

 

And then, before he’s even aware enough that he’s going to do it, he opens his mouth and blurts out, “I love you.”

 

 

Geno goes very still for a moment, then carefully reaches over, turns down the burner and sets the lid on the pot. He turns around, and Sid can’t tell what his expression means, can’t think of much except for the feeling of panic in his chest making it impossible to breathe, and the roar of rushing blood in his ears.

 

“English not so good.” Geno says slowly. “How Sid mean _love?_ Sid mean love like friend? Or love like… more than friend?”

 

“Like…” he begins. This is it, his final opportunity to step back from the precipice. He could take it all back, hide behind the selective language barrier, pretend that he only meant to say the safe, acceptable thing. But he can’t do it, can’t bring himself to lie after blurting out his statement of truth.

 

“Like more than a friend,” he confesses brokenly around the lump in his throat. Every muscle in his body is tensed, waiting for the inevitable rejection. He’s braced for it, prepared to handle it in whatever form it comes, whether its pity or awkwardness, or rejection and revulsion.

 

What he doesn’t expect is Geno whispering his name, strangled and low, or the way that he crosses the kitchen in a couple of strides until he’s right there, invading Sid’s personal space, colliding with him and pressing him up against the wall. Geno’s lips are on his then, and Sid can barely process that fact, let alone properly appreciate the softness of Geno’s lips sliding against his, which is a shame because he’s thought about it so many times.

 

He gets with the program though when he feels the slide of Geno’s tongue against his bottom lip, just a hint of it, seeking permission. He parts his lips in response, tilts his head back and abandons himself to the kiss. Geno’s hands are on his shoulder, his hips pinning him against the wall as he kisses Sid in what’s quickly becoming one of the dirtiest kisses Sid has ever experienced. Kissing Geno is breathless perfection, something that he never wants to stop, so he makes an embarrassing whining sound when Geno pulls away. He doesn’t leave completely though- he’s still close enough that their bodies brush together, that Sid can feel the heat of Geno’s body radiating out and warming his limbs.

 

Geno raises a hand to let his thumb glide across Sid’s spit-slicked lower lip, which makes his fingertips brush along Sid’s jawline, and the touch is practically electric, crackling over Sid’s skin.

 

 “Me too, Sid.” He murmurs. “Love you too. For long time.” Sid stares at Geno, incredulous. He’s not ready to question the declaration of love, because he doesn’t doubt Geno. He’s well aware that Geno is careful to say what he means, especially in English. Instead, he focuses on the other piece of shocking information his mind is trying to make sense of.

 

“ _How_ long?” he asks. Geno shrugs, the motion causing him to shift more toward Sid.

 

“How long know I love Sid?” He repeats the question slowly. “Long time. Since before we win Cup.” Sid’s a little taken aback by that, but Geno keeps talking. “Knew Sid special though. First night in Pittsburgh, at Mario’s I felt… spark. Knew we be good on ice. Good hockey. Not sure if good off-ice too. Wait, find out if Sid feel same way. Now I know.” It’s a fairly long speech for Geno, and Sid is kind of floored by this information.

 

“I… Me too.” He assures breathlessly. “For almost as long.” He stares at Geno in wonderment. “How did we miss this for so long?” Geno grins- that big, dopey grin that Sid can’t help but smile along with, because it stirs something in his chest and makes him unspeakably _happy_.

 

“We hockey players,” Geno explains. “Dumb. Too many hits to head.” His fingers trail over Sid’s forehead, brushing an errant curl out of the way. “Figure out now, though.” He says, and his voice is full of promise. “Make up for lost time.”

 

“Yes.” Sid nods in desperate approval of this plan, pulling Geno back down into a searing kiss. Geno licks into his mouth, using his height advantage to align their hips, drive their bodies together. Their hands end up everywhere- running through each other’s hair and skimming down their backs, trailing over hips and twisting in shirts. Geno grinds himself against Sid, eliciting a moan while Sid’s thumb finds its way beneath the hem of Geno’s shirt, dragging deliberately along the line of his boxers. It’s the single-most erotic, arousing thing Sid has ever heard, and he thinks distantly that if just _kissing_ Geno is this hot, how incredible is sex with Geno going to be?

 

He finds out later that night when they end up in Geno’s bed, frantic and fumbling at first, and later slow, deliberate and intense. And when Geno wraps one incredible hand around both of them, stroking them together, meeting Sid’s eyes and holding his gaze even as he tips them both over the edge, there’s so much emotion there that Sid can barely breathe.

 

It’s perfect, because it’s _Geno_ , and it’s everything he thought he’d never get to have. And after they clean up, Geno pulls Sid to him so that they’re both sharing the same pillow, looks into his eyes and says, “So we are together now? Like dating?”  And Sid nods. They’re together. He and Geno. Because, _holy fuck,_ they love each other. And short of a second Stanley Cup victory, that seems like the best thing in the world.

 

____________________________________________________

 

 

_December, 2013_

They don’t tell anyone about their relationship at first. For one thing, they need the time to figure out some of this for themselves. The understanding that they love each other and intend to be together goes a long way toward making things work, but there are still a number of potential minefields to navigate- the way that Sid isn’t great at cuddling or easy touches, but Geno thrives on them and is always a little hurt when Sid rebuffs him inadvertently. There’s the language barrier, the small issues that arise when two people who have spent nearly a decade and a half living their own solitary lives suddenly try to carve out space for someone else. They need the time to figure these things out, to feel sure enough about this themselves before they start telling other people.

 

Not to mention, of course, that neither one of them is prepared to tell the public. There are endless reasons why Sid has never come out- the guarantee of added media attention, the inevitable judgments and homophobia and distraction from the game, the sense he has that doing so will make his life defined by something other than hockey; that he’ll become, in a sense, _who_ he does, not _what_ he does. Each of those things carries its own burden of ramifications. The idea of two of the world’s most prominent hockey players coming out _together_ though is enough to guarantee that the presses won’t stop running for decades, which is a little intimidating to contemplate when your relationship is barely a month old.

 

They’re in bed one night at Sid’s (after some spectacular hand jobs in the shower. Sid has a thing for Geno wet and dripping with water- he can’t help if it looks nearly pornographic) when Sid looks up from the email he’s writing to Taylor. The motion draws Geno’s attention away from the Russian novel he’s reading.

 

“Geno?” he asks, and Geno raises his eyebrows. “Would it be okay… I want to tell Taylor. About us.”

 

“Okay.” Geno says easily.

 

“Really?” Sid questions, because he thought that agreeing to tell people might be a little bit of a bigger deal than this. Not that Taylor is just “people,” but still… Geno smiles at him, that indulgent, patient smile that lets Sid know he’s making too big a deal about something again, and leans over to press a soft kiss to his lips.

 

“Yes, Sid.” He says. “Is okay to tell Taylor. Is good.” He settles back down to read then, letting his long, slender fingers curl lightly against Sid’s hipbone in the exact level of reassuring connection that Sid can tolerate.

 

It’s not something that he can just blurt out over email, or even over Skype, so he invites her to come down to Pittsburgh for a few days after the Shattuck break starts. She practically leaps at the chance, and so before he closes his computer for the night, he has her plane ticket booked. He falls asleep that night with Geno’s feet tangled comfortably with his, and a dozen thoughts on how the conversation should go tumbling through his mind.

 

He makes sure to put Taylor on a flight which arrives late enough in the afternoon that he can get there to pick her up after the morning practice. He wears a baseball cap to the airport to try to look a little less conspicuous, but still ends up signing a handful of autographs while he waits.

 

Taylor waves enthusiastically at him so he catches sight of her in the crowd, and launches herself into his arms for an enthusiastic, over-the-top hug. He catches a few people smiling at them, and at least one cell phone-wielding fan taking pictures, so there will probably be photographic proof of her visit on the Internet within the hour, but no one’s intruding that much, and he can’t be too bothered by it. He’s too happy to see his sister, and there are too many other things on his mind.

 

They keep up a steady stream of chatter while they wait for the baggage claim to take its sweet time delivering the bags from Taylor’s flight. She shows him the picture she snapped a few minutes ago with the T-Rex in the background, and brings him up to date on things at Shattuck.

 

It’s a rare thing for them to have time like this, just the two of them as siblings. He wants to treasure it, but he’s also incredibly nervous. He thinks she’ll be okay with the fact that he’s gay, but… he’s terrible at judging people, and guessing how they’ll respond. It’s what makes him so good at delivering the most boring of sound bites, and so terrible at actual human interaction.

 

Except with Taylor, because she’s always been the one person he can be utterly comfortable around, and he’s afraid to lose that. Even if she’s fine with what he has to tell her, he’s concerned that he might lose the easiness and comfort of their relationship.

 

He allows himself the twenty minute drive back home to not think about it, to just relax into Taylor being here. He takes her on the grand tour, because the house wasn’t totally finished the last time she was here with their parents, and gets her settled into the guest room he made sure was ready. He gives her a few minutes to get acclimated on her own and heads down to the kitchen.

 

“Hey.” He greets her when she slips through the doorway wearing some sort of flowy, comfortable-looking sweater instead of the North Face fleece she’d had on the plane.

 

“Want some hot chocolate?” The water is already heating, and he’s got the mugs ready.

 

“Sure.” Taylor says easily, but she tilts her head a little. “Since when is Hot Chocolate in your nutrition plan?”

 

“It’s not.” He admits. “But I remember that Mom used to make it for us when we were little.” It used to make him feel warm and happy and safe after a day out on the ice in the wind and the cold. He needs a little of that comfort now to calm his jitters- had known that he’d need it even when he’d added it to the shopping list three days ago as part of his game plan. He pours the water, carries the mugs over to the breakfast bar, watching Taylor stir the drink as he gathers his courage.

 

“There’s actually… there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” He says haltingly. How is it possible to be this bad at talking to people? “About…kind of about dating…and… um…”

 

“Wait.” Taylor breaks in, looking a little alarmed. “Is this a conversation about me dating guys? Because I promise you that Mom has already had the most excruciating talk with me about dating and birth control and condoms, and I swear that you do _not_ have to get in on that conversation.”

 

“No.” Sid is feeling very confused, and not a little alarmed at the notion of Taylor dating, and he is not even going to _think_ about the condom comment, which is why he so readily blurts out, “It’s a conversation about _me_ dating guys.” And then there’s a second of silence before he realizes that maybe he needs to clarify. “I’m gay.”

 

Taylor is looking at him, and he’s not sure whether she’s processing, or freaking out, or what, because he expression is studiously blank. And then there’s this grin spreading across her face, and it’s like the sun coming out, because of all the reactions he was anticipating from telling anyone, _happy_ was not the one he would have bet on. Worried, maybe. Supportive, perhaps. But Taylor’s beaming, and standing up from the stool to come around the counter to throw her arms around him, telling him that she loves him, that she’s happy for him.

 

“You’re not surprised?” he asks, a little bewildered. “Or shocked?” Taylor grabs her hot chocolate and takes a sip.

 

“I mean, it’s not like you ever brought girls home, so I guess I thought it was a possibility. And you only have posters of hockey players up in your room at home, so…”

 

“You have posters of hockey players!” he defends himself, to which Taylor just arches an eyebrow and takes another sip of her cocoa, and…oh. That was kind of her point.

 

“Have you told anyone else?” she asks. “Like Mom and Dad?” Sid shakes his head.

 

“Not really. Mario and Nathalie know.” That had been back when he hadn’t really come to terms with himself, when he’d mumbled out something along the lines of “I don’t think I’m really that into girls” to Nathalie one night when she’d teased him about all the women who happily threw themselves at his feet, and promptly wished he’d never opened his big mouth. From the look she gave him, she clearly understood everything he was saying…and not saying. She’d patted him on the arm, told him that there was love out there for everyone, and said that she was always there if he wanted to talk- like she knew he wasn’t ready yet, and was merciful enough to let him go without interrogation.

 

 She’d obviously told Mario though, because less than a week later, Mario had cornered him in the living room, and told him in no uncertain terms that Sid was a great player, and Mario would support him one hundred percent, no matter what, and that he could always count on the Pens to have his back.

 

He hadn’t had to say what he was talking about specifically. Sid understood that, without pressuring him, the Lemieuxs were letting him know that he was safe, that his sexuality was a non-issue for them. He’d never put it to the test though, never dated anyone or brought them home. To hotel rooms and their places, and even to the apartment once or twice, but the apartment had never been _home_. He’d never wanted that until Geno.

 

“Um, now you know too.” He says, shaking himself out of his reverie, “And, um…the guy I’m dating. That’s it though.”

 

“Holy shit!” Taylor exclaims. “You’re dating someone? Who is he? What’s he like? Is it serious? Tell me everything.”

 

“It is serious, actually,” Sid says, and he can feel himself blushing even more than he ever thought he could, “And…it’s Geno.” Taylor gapes at him.

 

“Wait, like, _Geno_? Evgeni Malkin, your teammate, plays-for-the-Pittsburgh-Penguins Geno? Not like, Geno-the-dog walker or Geno-your barista, but like actual hockey-player-Geno?”

 

“Yeah. Geno.” He wonders where she gets these other ideas.

 

“Holy shit. That’s…kind of a big deal.”

 

Sid shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.” And then, because he’s still fixated on it, “Barista? Really?”

 

Taylor shrugs, and if he were paying more attention, he might have been struck by how similar they are in their movements. “You never know. I’ve heard that people can have a very intense connection with their barista.” Sid doesn’t know what to do with that, so he just rolls his eyes. Taylor hip-check him for it, but is grinning the whole time. She sobers quickly though.

 

“So, Geno. Tell me more. You said it’s serious…” She hops up on the counter, letting her feet dangle.

 

“It is.” Sid says. It feels strange, talking about this. “He… I love him.” Taylor’s eyes widen a bit, but she lets him keep talking. “That’s actually… how we ended up together. I kind of blurted out that I was in love with him. Really stupidly. And it turned out that he felt the same.”

 

He tells her more about Geno, answers all her questions. He also tells her that even Mario and Nathalie don’t know about them yet, and cautions her that she can’t tell anyone- not even Stephanie or any of the other Lemieux kids.

 

It’s almost six when she asks him when she’s going to get to meet Geno “for real”. Because she’s met him before, briefly as one of the guys on the team, but never as Sid’s boyfriend. He tells her it’s up to her, and she responds ‘the sooner the better’ and then ends up pressuring him into calling Geno then and there and inviting him over for dinner. He has things to cook in the refrigerator that he can handle making, but he’s not going to try to fool himself into thinking that Geno wouldn’t do it better anyway.

 

When the doorbell rings, Taylor is halfway down the hallway before he even makes it across the room, so he finds himself watching as Taylor hauls open the door for Geno. She greets him with an incredibly direct, “So you’re the guy who’s in love with my brother?” like she’s the older sibling or something.

 

Geno blinks, then smiles, his eyes going soft and crinkling a little, and says, “Yes. Very much so,” in a formal way that makes Sid’s heart skip a couple of beats. Then Taylor leans up on her tiptoes to give Geno a massive hug, because she might possibly possess the biggest, most welcoming heart in all of Canada, and Geno returns the hug, grinning and meeting Sid’s gaze over the top of Taylor’s head, clearly smitten with her open affection and easy acceptance.

 

Geno makes them dinner that night, and Sid cleans up while his boyfriend and his sister sit at the table chatting and getting along like a house on fire. He declares that she’s much better at learning Russian than Sid is. Sid claims its because she’s had fewer concussions than he has, but really, he’s aware that his kid sister is just brilliant all-around.

 

It’s after eleven before Geno says goodnight and leans into to kiss Sid. It’s chaste, because Taylor is _right there,_ but at least she has the decency to hold off on pouncing him and declaring him to be “So freaking lucky” until the door shuts behind Geno. And yeah, he kind of is.

 

*      *      *

 

Geno's been staying at his own house while Taylor visits, but it's less than two days before she comes down for breakfast and tells Sid that he shouldn't pretend that Geno isn't practically living here on her account.

 

He tries to pretend that he doesn't know what she's talking about, but she just scrapes the thinnest possible layer of cream cheese onto her bagel and rattles off a list of things- Geno's coffee mug in the cabinet with Cyrillic script that Sid can't even read, the Russian food items that have crept into his kitchen, the handful of Russian novels on the bookshelf, and the spare toothbrush sitting in Sid's bathroom, not to mention the spare pair of sneakers in the hallway that aren’t Sid’s size and Jeffery’s dog toys scattered around the yard.

 

He starts to ask why Taylor was in his bathroom, but decides that it's a better tact to pretend he has no idea what she’s talking about. They have a game to prepare for, and he tells her that she’s going to have to hurry if she wants to come along and watch morning skate.

 

They pull out a win 3-2 against the Maple Leafs that night, and Sid realizes that there’s really no reason to pretend, so he asks Geno to stay over. When Taylor comes downstairs the next morning to the sight of Geno making breakfast in Pajamas with Jeffrey sitting patiently in the doorway and making sad-eyed appeals for turkey bacon handouts, she looks entirely too proud of herself. Tactfully though, she says nothing and smiles into her eggs.

 

 

Sid thoroughly enjoys the next week. Hanging out with Geno and Taylor, showing her the sights, playing video games, cooking, practicing with her on the rink after team practice is over, getting permission to have her come out on the ice following an optional skate and having her there for a few games makes him realize how happy his is to finally have told someone. How much he wants to just be with Geno and have everyone be as thrilled for them as Taylor is. One day, he promises himself. One day they can have it all.

 

____________________________________________________

 

 

_February, 2014_

 

The day that Mario finds out his two star players are dating each other isn’t the day they had intended to tell him. It happens by accident, really. They’re over at the Lemieux’s because Nathalie is doing a trial run for a big dinner she’s agreed to prepare the next week, and she invites Sid over as a guinea pig. Since Geno is at Sid’s when she calls, he gets invited along too. He’s not quite family like Sid is, but he’s no stranger either.

 

There’s a moment where Sid goes to get more ice for his drink, and Geno follows him a moment later for the same reason. There’s no one around, so Geno kisses him quickly, the barest brush of lips. Sid tugs him back for a second kiss, nothing crazy and certainly chaste despite its lingering nature (at least compared to the way they usually kiss, which is hot and intense and demanding). As he pulls away a second or two later, they hear the sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Sid blushes six shades of red when he realizes it’s Mario.

 

 Mario leans in the doorway and regards them both assessingly.

 

“I take it this is a thing, then?” he says. His hands are shoved casually in his pockets and his tone is mild, like he’s commenting on the weather. He still manages to sound intimidating as fuck.

 

 Sid manages to choke out a halting affirmative, willing himself to stand strong, leaving his arm around Geno’s waist instead of pulling away like his instincts are screaming at him to do. Mario nods and says something about how they’ll talk about it later, then turns to disappear down the hall, pausing only long enough to smile and say “Congratulations, boys.”

 

It goes a long way toward easing Sid’s mortification at being caught out kissing by his boss and pseudo-father figure. Mario never judges though, not even when they have the inevitable conversation about how their new status might impact the team and draw up contingency plans for a number of potential media situations.

 

Still, Mario never quite lets them live it down, because for years afterward, whenever he hosts a party, he always asks them to bring a bag or two of ice, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, because it never fails to bring spots of color to Sid’s cheeks.

 

____________________________________________________

 

 

_March, 2014_

 

Then there’s the night when they’re lying in bed together in the dark, Sid’s back snugged into Geno’s warmth and their hands intertwined, and Geno confesses that he wants kids more than almost anything else in the world. As much as another Stanley Cup. As much as love.

 

They’d had an event earlier in the day with a youth team, and Sid remembers how sad Geno’s smile had been when it was over. He’s nothing short of amazing around kids. He’ll be a great dad someday. And Sid likes kids, wants them in an abstract way even though he's not ready for them yet, but one day... He realizes he wants a kid with Geno. One day, he wants to be a dad too.

 

Those are the things he tells Geno that night as the covers arms around them and Geno’s breath tickles the back of his neck as a steady comfort settles in to his bones. Someday, he repeats to himself as they sink into sleep. Someday.

 

____________________________________________________

 

 

_July, 2014_

 

Someday comes a heck of a lot sooner than he anticipated. He remembers the day over the summer when Geno calls him from Russia and tells him that there was this little girl, barely even two year old, who attached to him on one of his visits to an orphanage, and he always wants to take all of the kids home and give them a happy place to live, but this one isn’t just one of the bunch.

 

“She s _pecial_ , Sid” Geno stresses. “Anna connect with me. Like magic. Like meant to be. I pick her up, and for a second, she scared to be up so high. But then she tuck her little head under my chin and not let go. Fall asleep there. Sofia say she not sleep so well the whole month she is at orphanage. I stay two hours extra. That yesterday.”

 

He goes silent for a moment, a hesitant silence where Sid can picture him worrying his lower lip. “Sid.” He finally says, and he sounds almost guilty. “ I go back today. Can’t help. Anna see me, remember me. She run up to me, give big hug. Steal my heart. There is…I have a friend here who pull strings, say maybe possible to let me adopt. I know I need talk with you, but… I say yes for now. I will listen though. I say no, stop, instead if this not okay. If this is too big of step.”

 

Sid isn't sure he's ready yet- there’s so much to talk about, details to think of. It’s a huge fucking decision- a life-altering one. Not one to be made lightly, and not one he can commit to if he’s unsure. If he’s not ready.

 

 But he _wants_ to be ready. He wants this for Geno. It’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about the possibility- obsessing over it, really- ever since Geno first mentioned it. He asks for a day to think it over, and Geno says of course, with so much hope in his voice that it’s almost embarrassing.

 

He wants to be sure, because he knows that Geno's not asking if _he_ can adopt a child. He's asking if _they_ can adopt. And Sid does want this. He realizes it as soon as he hangs up the phone. He’s already made up his mind, just asked for the time because he’s scared. He’s terrible at change, but he’s going to make it work, dammit. He’ll be ready.

 

He tells himself to wait the full twenty-four hours before he calls, on principle. But he knows himself, knows that he’s already as sure as he could ever be. Twenty-four hours isn’t going to make the decision to go ahead with this any less massive, but it’s also not going to result in a different answer. Forty minutes after he first hangs up the phone, he’s pressing redial, and when Geno picks up, the first word out of Sid’s mouth is _yes_. Because he can do anything for Geno. He can do anything _with_ Geno.

 

____________________________________________________

 

 

_September, 2014_

 

The thing is, it’s _not_ something they can do together. _Geno_ is adopting Anna (Maybe. If he’s lucky.) and Sid has no official part in any of it. They can’t talk about it much on the phone, which is frustrating and difficult. It’s even harder to be alone when they hang up, with fears and doubts and concerns creeping in on him from every side.

 

The thing is, Sid’s utterly convinced now that he wants Anna in his life. Geno tells him stories about her, and it doesn’t even matter that they end up being the same stories over and over. Sid’s internet search history is full of articles and website on adoption, every recent order on Amazon is a book about parenting, and there are even podcasts about raising toddlers that he has queued up for when he’s doing cardio. He has lists of Nanny services and babysitting agencies and pediatricians slowly growing in a folder on his laptop, and he is convinced that they can do this.

 

But there are so many hurdles, and the biggest one is… them. Their relationship. It’s not just that adoption is a long, drawn-out process that can be derailed in so many ways. Sid can think of at least one couple his parents know from back home that had to wait eleven months to get married because Rachel had been approved to adopt as a single mom, and getting married would mean the process would have to start again from the beginning.

 

This is way more intense than that. The laws that Putin has passed in Russia over the past few years mean that same-sex couples can’t adopt at all. So if anyone finds out he and Geno are together, they could lose Anna entirely. Even if no one finds out, it’s rare for a single man like Geno to be approved for adoption and rarer still to be allowed to adopt a little girl. His super-star status, history of supporting orphanages, and friends in the system might allow him a better chance there, but the same super-star status means that he spends more than two-thirds of the year in America, and the new laws prohibit Americans from adopting Russian children, not to mention prohibit allowing anyone from a country which recognizes marriage equality to any degree to adopt. Geno’s still counts as Russian, but the time he spends in America definitely a mark against him.

 

They talk about it when Geno gets back to Pittsburgh, worrying and talking and trying to think of solutions. On his second night back, Sid finally says the hardest thing he’s ever said. It breaks his heart to even utter the words. But he has to do it. He can’t be so selfish that he puts his own desires in front of Geno’s, so straightens his spine, wills himself to be strong and puts it out there.

 

“Geno.” Geno glances up at him, slightly puzzled, like he doesn’t know why Sid hasn’t sat down again yet. Sid swallows. “I… I understand if you want to not be with me. If you want to not date anymore so that you have a better chance of being approved for adoption. I don’t want to stand in the way of you being happy.”

 

Geno stares at him, startled and stricken, like a puppy whose just been kicked with a heavy boot.

 

“You want that?” he asks, and Sid can’t even being to describe the tone of his voice, because it’s one he’s never heard before. “You want break up? Not in love anymore?” There’s a catch in his voice, something raw and horrified.

 

“No! I don’t _want_ to break up.” Sid shakes his head vehemently. “I love you. But I’d understand if you wanted to. If it was making things too difficult.”

 

And then Geno is surging up off the sofa. Sid finds himself pinned up against the built-in bookcase by long, lanky limbs. Geno’s hands are threaded through his hair, pressing hard on his skull, and his lips have been claimed in a searing, borderline violent kiss.

 

“Stupid.” Geno growls out against his mouth, his voice gone deep, and Sid shivers at the sound. “Love you. Not want the break-up,” Geno bites out between bruising kisses. Sid clutches at him, only realizing now how much he needed this reassurance. Slowly, the desperation bleeds out of their kisses, leaving instead a lingering, heady intensity.

 

“Sid not in way of happiness.” Geno promises as he scrapes his teeth down Sid’s throat, across his clavicle. “Sid make happy.” And then he proceeds to show, in exacting and athletic detail, precisely _how_ happy Sid makes him. Several times. Emphatically.

 

They don’t even make it out of the living room. Sid just collapses, naked and unable to even think of moving for a while, his body humming with ebbing arousal. He feels fucked-out and drained and completely content, even as he becomes aware of the stubble-burn on his thighs, the slight ache in his knees that will fade before morning.

 

There are long stripes fading on Geno’s back from the bluntness of Sid’s fingernails, and Geno’s hair (and most likely his own as well) is a tousled mess. They’re both grinning though. Geno sits up long enough to drag the blanket off the sofa and drape it over them, and to shove a little pillow under Sid’s head before he drops his head on Sid’s shoulder, curling his longer frame into Sid’s body.

 

He drops a kiss to Sid’s sternum, nuzzling close. “I know not easy,” he murmurs, “But I want to be with you. Always. No matter how long we must wait to tell truth about us.”

 

Sid buries his nose in Geno’s hair and hums his approval. “You have me.” He promises. “I am in this. All the way.”

 

____________________________________________________

 

_August, 2015_

It takes forever to adopt, Sid learns. He’d read that, thought he knew it, but he didn’t _understand._ Not until weeks stretch into months. There are seemingly endless hoops to jump through, stacks of paperwork for Geno to fill out and have notarized and send back, only to receive another stack and go through the process again. Things go well, only to be delayed a month later, and it drags on. And then they’re out of playoffs, so Geno heads back to Russia like he does every year, to train, spend time with him family, and hopefully complete the final steps of the adoption process.

Sid texts with Geno every day, talks to him most days, throws himself into training and visits Nova Scotia. Taylor is more serious about hockey than ever, so they train together sometimes, pay for ice time at the rink a couple of times a week and skate, chirping each other, firing pucks at Taylor in the net to give them both a chance to practice.

He worries though. He’s got visions of someone finding out about his relationship with Geno, leaking it to the media. He wakes up from dreams at night missing the warmth of Geno beside him, blinking back images of the lawn here in Cole Harbour crammed with reporters, of Geno being arrested by Russian police or held in a prison cell, of losing Anna and never even getting to see her in person. He even has a dream where Geno calls, sounding distant and sad while explaining that he has to play in Russia now to keep Anna, and he’ll miss being a Penguin. In short, he’s not handling it well. The anxiety eats at him, and it drives his parents a little crazy. Taylor’s pretty much the only one who can stand him, and even she gives up on him some days, heading out to hang with her friends and leaving him to train a little longer, or watch a little more film.

It’s August 6th when Geno calls him over Skype, grinning  and happy, not tired like he’s looked for the last several days, and says, “Sid, I’d like you to meet Anna. We just get home.” Sid wants to throw his arms around Geno and kiss him, celebrate with him, but he’s thousands of miles away and hast to settle for talking to Anna like an idiot, telling her how excited he is to meet her, and how long he’s waited to get to know her. She only knows a few words of English, so Geno translates for her, and the sight of them, Geno’s dark head bowed over her little blonde one almost makes him tear up.

She reaches out one little hand toward the screen and says something that makes Geno laugh. “She poke you in nose.” He explains. “Say Sid have big nose. Smart girl.” He pats her narrow shoulder. There’s a laugh in the background that Sid recognizes as belonging to Geno’ Mom. They talk until Anna gets tired and squirmy. During that time Geno tells him that they’re booking tickets back to the US in about two weeks. Geno looks apologetic.

“I book ticket tomorrow,” he says, “But it look bad if we leave too soon. Also, be scary for Anna, so much change.”

“It’s okay.” Sid promises. “I’ll see you soon.” And then, because he needs Geno to know, even though it’s already pretty damn obvious, “I love you.”

“Love you too, Sid.” Geno says warmly. “Two weeks.”

They hang up, and Sid goes to tell his family the good news. There are lots of hugs, and general happiness. He knew his family was supportive, despite the number of times they’d asked if he was sure about everything, but he didn’t quite believe it until his dad pulls him out to the backyard. The sun is starting to set, and the heat of the day is beginning to fade when his Dad produces two cigars and says “Congratulations, Son. I’m proud that you’re about to be a father.” Sid had no idea until that moment how much his Father’s approval meant to him in this regard. They share a fierce hug which is very manly, and during which neither of them get damp-eyed in the least, and then manage to light the cigars. They don’t finish them, of course, because it’s terrible on the lungs, but they enjoy them for a few minutes, sharing a deep, quiet satisfaction in the father-son bonding ritual.

 

Sid decides pretty rapidly that he needs to go to head back to Pittsburgh in order to make sure that everything is ready for Geno’s return with Anna. He convinces Taylor to go with him, which admittedly only means that he asks once and she says yes to head upstairs and start packing.

The morning that they’re set to head out, his Mom hands him a messenger bag that feels like it’s packed with bricks. He frowns at it, trying to puzzle out what this is. She pats his arm and tells him that it’s for Anna. She zips the bag open to show him that it contains all of the books she saved from when he and Taylor were little- _Goodnight Moon_ and _Make Way for Ducklings_ and _Curious George_ among others.

“I know she doesn’t know a lot of English right now,” his mother tells him, “but you can always read to her and show her the pictures. You used to love it when we read to you.” Sid pulls her into a fierce one-armed hug and tries to ignore how often his eyes start prickling with tears these days.

He uses his key to Geno’s to go over, make sure that the furniture they bought is set up. Taylor helps him make up the bed with the bedding that had been ordered ages ago and carefully stowed in the closet.

The problem comes when it occurs to him that there’s not space truly set aside for Anna in his house. In his morning Skype session with Geno and Anna, he learns that Anna’s favorite color is apparently yellow (“Like sun,” Geno clarifies) and the wheels in his head start to turn.

This results in a trip to the local True Value where Taylor helps him determine which is the best sunshine yellow paint chip. They end up buying enough primer, paint, drop cloths, rollers, brushes, and assorted other painting supplies that they could probably paint the entire second floor of his house, but it’s not like he can’t afford it, so he doesn’t worry about it. They clearly make the sales guy’s day.

Painting is more time consuming than he realized. There hadn’t been any furniture in the room to move (He wonders if that was in some way intentional on his part, because he’s managed to furnish the rest of the house to an adequate, if somewhat spartan degree) but they still have to send a few hours preparing the room for priming.

 

They day that they finally start putting color up, they’ve barely started rolling paint on the walls when the doorbell rings. Sid debates ignoring it, because no one he knows should be in town and he’s not expecting any deliveries, but he can’t bring himself to be quite that much of an asshole. He’s more than a little surprised to find Nealer standing on his front stoop.

“Hey.” He says with a shrug. “I’m in town early to work on some training stuff, and Geno mentioned that you’re back early too. He said I should drop by.”

“Geno’s like a Russian Grandmother sometimes.” Sid sighs, shaking his head. “It’s cool of you to stop by, but we’re kind of in the middle of painting one of the rooms upstairs.” He expects that that will kind of kill the conversation, and he won’t have to invite Nealer in, scrounge up a beer or something, and entertain him.

“Oh.” Nealer says brightly. “Paulie’s still out of town, so I’m free for the day. Want some help?” Sid is surprised to discover that actually, he’s pretty okay with that idea. Nealer’s a good guy, even if he’s more Geno’s than Sid’s, and they’ve gotten fairly friendly over the past few years.

“Sure.” He finds himself saying, swinging the door open wider. “Come on in.”

Nealer’s actually a fairly competent painter, and with his help, the project goes noticeably faster than it did with just Sid and Taylor. At least, until Taylor, perched on a ladder, drips some paint on Sid’s arm, and he protests. She laughs and claims it was an accident, but Sid isn’t entirely convinced. He narrows his eyes at her, and she rolls her in exasperation.

“ _Fine_.” She says. “If you want to see deliberate…” and as she says it, she drags her brush across his nose, smearing it with yellow paint. “That’s deliberate.” And of course, he has to retaliate, so he reaches as high as he can, attempting to dab her face with the roller, but getting her shoulder and her chest above the line of her tank top instead. It devolves into a bit of an all-out war between them until he notices Nealer’s attention is captured by the paint smears on Taylor’s skin a second longer than Sid is okay with (which, the time Sid’s okay with is approximately negative three seconds, so it’s not like Nealer is actually doing something wrong) but he still has to be put in his place, so Sid reaches out to swipe him with a roller too muttering “Dude. Not cool.” It means opening a war on two fronts, but he’s defending his sister’s honor, so it has to be done.

Somehow, they manage to call a truce and finish the painting without damaging anything (the paint will wash out of his hair. He thinks. At least none of them were cruel enough to get paint in Nealer’s hair, since he’d probably cry) and when it’s done, they troop downstairs to scrounge up drinks. They sit out on the back deck for a while and shoot the breeze, and it’s only after Nealer heads out that Sid realizes he never even asked why they were painting a room Sunshine Yellow.

The next step, of course, is buying things, which Sid spends an entire day on the Internet doing, using Taylor as a sounding board. He spends the extra money to get things shipped as fast as possible, knowing that he can get Taylor to help him assemble and arrange everything before she has to head back to college.

The five days between when Taylor leaves and when Geno and Anna arrive feel like the longest of his life.

Finally, _finally_ , he gets a text message from Geno. _Landed._ It says, followed by a string of _)))))))))))))))),_ which never fail to make Sid smile. And then, _We come over?_ Sid can’t type back a yes fast enough.

He’s hovering near the door like a complete busybody, so he can see the minute the car pulls into his driveway. He’s out the door, trying not to look as wound-up as he feels while Geno unfolds himself from the car. He looks amazing, Sid notes, still lean overall, but with perfectly defined muscles from summer training showed off the great effect by the tight white polo he’s wearing.

And then, Sid totally forgets about Geno for a moment, because Geno’s pulling Anna out of the car, settling her on his hip so he can close the door. Sid’s mouth goes dry at how effortless and natural Geno makes it look. And then Anna’s turning her head to look at him, and he’s just… gone. No questions asked, he’s already wrapped around her little finger. There’s a shy smile of hesitant recognition in her eyes even as she hides her face a little in Geno’s shoulder. Geno talks to her low and in Russian as they come up the walkway. She waves a little and sits up straighter in Geno’s arms. He hears his name, and wishes he were better at Russian, could know what Geno is saying. Geno seems to know that though.

“I tell her, this very important.” He translates. “That this is Sid. That Sid is her Papa too, just like Geno.”

That may just be the most significant thing Sid’s ever heard in his life. His smile comes out a little watery, and Geno is right there with him. “Is true.” Geno insists, “No matter what paperwork say, Sid is her отец.” He brings his free hand up to run through Sid’s hair and pull him into a one-armed embrace, kissing the top of Sid’s forehead.

“I do have question, though.” Geno says after a moment, his nose scrunching up a little as he frowns. “Why Nealer send photo of Sid covered in yellow paint?” He fishes out his phone to show Sid the picture of himself, yellow paint on his nose, and Taylor’s paint-speckled fingers hovering at the edge of the frame. Sid hadn’t even realized that Nealer had snapped a photo that day. He blushes and scratches idly at his wrist in a bit of a nervous gesture.

“I guess… maybe I should show you?” he says, and at Geno’s nod, pushes open the front door. He leads the way up the stairs, down the hallway. He watches Geno’s face as he pushes this door open too, nervous that he’s gone too far. “I thought… Anna should have her own space here. In case…if you ever want to stay over…” Geno’s silence is nerve-wracking. He takes in the yellow walls, the carefully selected furniture, and all of the little touches- the matroyshka doll wall decals near the closet, the bedside lamp shaped like two penguins, the collection of books on the bookshelf, held up by bookends that are vintage children’s skates which Sid had found on Ebay and stayed up until 2 in the morning bidding on, and the teddy bear that Sid had purchased at the toy store because it was the softest thing he’d ever felt.

“Say something.” Sid pleads as the silence stretches.

“Sid.” Geno breathes, reaching he free hand out to squeeze Sid’s. “Is perfect.” He says something to Anna, and she nods. “She like.” Geno confirms. “Yellow good.” Sid feels something ease in his chest at the words.

“Good.” He ducks further into the room to grab the teddy bear from its carefully posed position on the bed. Geno follows him and surprises him by sitting down. He pats the space beside him.

“Sid join us.” He urges. “Hold Anna.” He does as he’s told, reaching out his arms to accept the tangle of limbs that is the precocious toddler. She starts to fuss a bit when she’s detached from Geno, but he shushes her gently, and the fussing doesn’t become a full-blown tantrum, and then he’s holding her in his arms. _Their_ daughter. He talks to her softly- utter nonsense, so it’s probably a good thing that she doesn’t have a huge English vocabulary, and when she starts to squirm, he grabs the bear and hands it to her, and telling her it belongs to her, relying on Geno to translate. With some prompting, she even smiles up at him and repeats the English words that Geno feeds her. “Anna. Bear.” She seems immensely pleased at the praise they laud upon her in both Russian and English for this accomplishment, and that moment lives on, since it becomes her nickname wherever Sid is concerned: Anna-bear.

____________________________________________________

 

_Late August, 2015_

Sid is totally unprepared for the morning that Flower corners him at his house. Sid’s only there because he and Geno have reluctantly come to the conclusion that it’s too inexplicable for Sid to spend every night over at Geno’s, or even shuffling back and forth between their two houses. So much as he hates it, he limits himself to staying over only one or two nights a week, leaving after they put Anna to bed.

 

Some night they manage a little time for themselves, other times only an exhausted kiss before Sid walks back to his car, drives home and collapses into bed so he can wake up, get in a brief workout, and head over to Geno’s. It’s a grueling, impossible schedule, and it will ever work once the season starts up, but it’s the best they’ve been able to come up with. He’s barely running on time, is so focused on making sure that he has everything before he locks the door that he doesn’t even see Flower parked in the driveway, leaning casually against the car door until he turns around.

 

“What the fuck?” He curses, because he actually has a really bad habit of cursing when he’s not in front of reporters. He’s trying to break it around Anna, but it slips out when he’s startled or not thinking about it. Like now. “What are you even doing here?”

 

Flower shrugs with practiced ease.

 

“I have some free time, some things that need to be done in Pittsburgh, so I am here for a few days. And then I hear through the team grapevine that Geno has adopted a baby. I tell Vero that I will have to commiserate with him about being a father. But really, I am here to see you, Sid.”

 

“Anna’s three.” Sid corrects absently. “Why are you here to see me?” Flower snorts.

 

“Because you are my friend, even if you are an asshole.” He shifts his weight a bit, leaning closer. “I come to see if you are alright. I know that you and Geno are…special to each other. I know you have been dating this past year, even if you pretend you are not. But a child is a big step, Sid. And the email that you sent only says that _Geno_ adopted a little girl. Nothing about you and Geno. Not sure if it means that you broke up, or…I mean, you clearly haven’t moved in together. So I need to make sure that you are not dying of a broken heart.”

 

Sid feels like one of those old cartoons where the character keeps getting hit across the face so fast that their head moves in a blur. He doesn’t even know which of Flower’s statements to focus on. What he should confirm, or deny, and… fuck it. This is Flower. He’s one of Sid’s closest friends, and it’s not like he can’t keep a secret.

 

“We’re not…” Sid begins, and Flower interrupts him.

 

“Don’t even _try_ to pretend you’re not together. I have seen the way you look at each other, the way that you drive to and from practices and together- even when you take different cars. Last Valentine’s day, you quizzed me and Duper about what we buy our wives as gifts, and you nodded when we said chocolate and champagne, but got a startled look on your face when Duper mentioned naughty lingerie- so don’t tell me you were trying to find out for a girl.” He smiles wolfishly, and Sid has a moment’s pause to remember that goalies are legitimately crazy, and Flower is apparently no exception.

 

“Also, I almost walked in on the two of you making out in one of the equipment rooms before a game last year. And in case you were wondering, that hotel in Dallas with the connecting doors? They are very thin. Duper and I could hear you fucking. We have to turn the TV up very loud.”

 

And now, Sid is utterly mortified.

 

“I wasn’t… Jesus Christ, Flower, I wasn’t trying to deny it.” Not now, anyway, he thinks bitterly. He leans heavily against Flower’s car, looking intently at his travel mug, or off in the distance- anywhere where he doesn’t have to look at Flower. “I was going to say that Geno and I… we haven’t broken up. We just…couldn’t risk telling anyone while he was adopting Anna, not with the way things are in Russia. And even now, it’s too risky to tell people. The potential outfall is too extreme. But we adopted her together, even if it’s only Geno’s name there officially. So my heart is just fine.”

 

“Holy shit.” Flower breathes, mouth agape. Sid nods. “Holy _shit_.” Flower says again several seconds later.

 

“What?” Sid says irritably. “You thought that Geno and I broke up, so he went out and adopted a kid?”

 

“Not exactly, but…yeah.” Flower admits. Sid shoots him a look which he hopes conveys how idiotic Flower is.

 

“Do you have any idea how long it takes to adopt?” he asks, thinking back on the months and months of preparing, waiting, and more waiting. Flower shakes his head, his sly, trademark grin creeping across his face. His eyes even begin to twinkle.

 

“No idea.” He confesses cheerfully. “I only know about how long they take to be born. And the process of making them, of course.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and Sid can’t help but huff out a laugh.

 

“It took more than a year.” Sid reveals, and it’s kind of cool to actually talk about it with someone. Flower’s eyebrows lift again, this time in astonishment.

 

“So it’s serious then. Between you two, I mean.”

 

“Yeah.” Sid toys with the lid of his mug. “You can’t tell anyone though. We can’t risk it leaking to the press, or back to Russia.”

 

“Who else knows?”

 

Sid thinks a moment. “Our parents, Taylor and Denis, Mario and Nathalie. Gonch. Now you.”

 

“That’s… a very small list, Sid.”

 

“That’s the way it has to be though.” Sid counters. Flower nods, not exactly like he’s agreeing- more like he’s thinking about something.

 

“I was a little mad.” Flower says, and Sid starts to frown, but Flower holds up his hand to stop him. “…that you didn’t trust me- didn’t tell me you were gay, didn’t tell me about Geno, didn’t tell me you were going to be a dad. I mean, fucking hell, man. But… I get it. And I am honored that you told me now.’ He bites his lip. “I think though… I am not the only one who is worried- not the only one on the team who knows that you and Geno were together last season. I think… you should tell them. Or let me tell them. Then we can all help you keep things quiet, run interference in the locker room, or with the press. What do you think?”

 

Sid hesitates.

 

“Have to check with Geno. But…maybe one or two of the guys. If you’re sure they can handle it.” Flower scoffs.

 

“Please, Sid. We’ve been safeguarding your privacy for years as the NHL wunderkind. This is not so different.” Flower turns as he’s speaking and draws Sid smoothly into a hug. “Congratulations, Papa. I have things to do, I will let you get to your family. But,” he says with a clap on Sid’s shoulder, “You owe me dinner.”

 

“How do you figure?” Sid asks, throwing an elbow into Flower’s side, dancing his feet away swiftly to dodge the inevitable retaliation.

 

“Dude.” Flower glares. “Gay. Geno. Daughter. All of these secrets, this lack of faith, and I am still your friend. I want steak. Yummy yummy steak.”

 

“You got it, man.” Sid agrees, because Flower kind of has a point.

 

He waves as Flower pulls away down the driveway, then gets in his car to head over to Geno’s. He turns the radio up and realizes that he’s singing along, tapping out the beat on his steering wheel and enjoying the summer breeze spilling in through the open window. He’s surprised, since he was basically just forced to out himself to a teammate, sort of even gave permission for Flower to tell more of the guys, and he had never anticipated that. It doesn’t feel as terrifying as he had expected though.

 

 It actually feels pretty good.

 

 

____________________________________________________

 

_September, 2015_

 

The first time they have to leave Anna overnight is awful. They're both a mess, barely able to focus on the ice, and completely pathetic off of it. They Skype with her before the game, and it’s good to know that she’s having fun with Nathalie, but it's still one of the hardest things he’s experienced. They curl up together in Sid's room after the game, trying not to think about how unsettling it feels not to have read her a bedtime story and tucked her in for the night, how nervous and at a loss they feel.

Sid at least has practice at falling asleep when he’s not a few feet down the hall from his daughter, but it’s the first time Geno’s been away from Anna since she came home with him. He takes over, trying to soothe Geno by massaging the tension out of his neck with deft fingers, until Geno at least lets his body relax into the touch.

They get off together because they’re not idiots, and a night away from home is always a good reason for sex. But afterward, they curl together in the bed, pressed against each other like they’re trying to inhabit each other’s bodies. It's more cuddling than Sid is usually down for, but he knows how much Geno needs to be held that night.

____________________________________________________

 

 

_Early October, 2015_

 

The start of the first season once they had Anna is brutal. There’s no other word for it. It’s busy and hectic, and the schedule is impossible to keep track of. There’s not enough time to sleep and practice and play, and be a parent, let alone be a partner. Sid feels like he’s in a fog. He can’t remember the last time he and Geno had sex, which is nothing compared to the fact that he can’t remember the last time he ate a meal without feeling like he was going to end up snoring in his plate by the end of it.

To make matters worse, three year olds pick up on tension like nobody’s business. Anna starts to get grouchy and refuses to take naps, which means that they’re all always tired and therefore grumpy. The constant changes to the schedule unsettle her, and that’s never a good thing.

They’re still trying to keep up the illusion that they’re just teammates, particularly since reporters and fans are more interested in Geno than ever, now that Anna’s in the picture. Sid doesn’t want to take chances, which means that he’s been driving home to sleep almost every night. Except sleeping alone isn’t the same. As much as he needs his space sometimes, waking up to an empty bed is disorienting now, and it takes him too long to fall asleep without the soft, barely-audible huff of Geno’s breathing beside him.

Geno can tell, and some nights he insists that Sid head home early to catch up on sleep, but the one night he capitulates, he hates the time he misses with Anna. What’s worse is that Geno confesses that she kept asking where he was at bedtime and even (he has to drag this information out of Geno) started to cry. This leads to some heated words and the repeated realization that fighting with someone when you have enough language in common to hurt each other, but not quite enough to appreciate the more creative, nuanced insults really sucks. The upshot is that Sid vows not to miss another night. It’s an endless cycle that isn’t improving, and they both know that something is going to break.

As it turns out, it’s a water pipe.

He arrives at Geno’s one morning to find the kitchen covered with cheerios and Geno gripping a wrench and looking like he took the unusual approach of showering with his clothes on.

“Problem with water.” Geno announces. “Flood. Try to fix, but make worse. Then get angry. Make much worse.” He looks a little sheepish. “Water stop now, but much damage. Need to fix. Think maybe…Anna and I should come stay with Sid for a few days while fixing.” Sid is _so_ on board with that idea. He grins, but just says, “Sure.”

“Good.” Geno says, and he grins then too, playful and mischievous and a little sly. “Work take long time. Maybe months.” He elaborates. “That okay?”

Sid finds himself hauling Geno is for a kiss because he understands everything that Geno isn’t saying. How maybe he wasn’t just frustrated and angry, how maybe he even made the leak worse on purpose because he realized that this was the excuse that they needed- flimsy though it might be- for them to all be under one roof.

“More than okay.” Sid agrees. Angling his mouth toward Geno’s ear, he whispers, “In fact, if you’re okay with it, I think I might just have to reward your genius with an epic blowjob later tonight.”

“Oh.” Geno says, his eyes going dark. “Okay.”

 

It’s 10:15 that night before they get everything they need right away packed, carted over to Sid’s and put away, stopping to get Anna settled in her room, fed, and put to bed. She wants to be part of everything that’s going on, so she gets herself up three times to investigate what they’re doing before bedtime finally takes. They eat dinner standing in the kitchen, not even bothering to transfer the re-heated borscht they rescued from Geno’s freezer into bowls.

 They attempt to shower quickly so they can get to bed, but sharing a shower to conserve water doesn’t actually seem to save on time. Still, maybe it’s more expedient in the long run, because Sid does manage to make good on his promise of a blowjob, going to his knees on the tile and taking Geno into his mouth while the water pounds down on them, runs in streams down Geno’s body and Sid’s hair. Geno calls out words that Sid doesn’t know in Russian when he comes, then hauls Sid up for a kiss, tasting himself on Sid’s tongue even as the water washes it away. He wraps a hand around Sid’s cock, using soap suds to slick the way as he works him, reaching to tease with a fingertip at Sid’s entrance and making Sid come in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

They collapse into bed, knowing that morning (and morning skate) is approaching all too quickly. Sleepily, Sid murmurs, “You know. After everything is fixed, I think there are some renovations I remember you saying you wanted to make. You should have those done too. Should probably stay here while those are going on as well. Construction dust and all.” He feels the bed move a little as Geno chuckles.

“Sid have good ideas.” Geno allows. His hand reaches out to clasp Sid’s in the darkness, and they fall asleep like that. They both sleep better than they have in months.

____________________________________________________

 

_October, 2015_

The third away game of the pre-season is against the Hurricanes. The Canes make them work for it, and it ends with a win 4-3 in overtime. Everyone seems pretty drained in the locker room, and it’s only some of the younger kids making noise about going out to celebrate. They’ve only been back in the hotel for less ten minutes though- barely enough time for Sid to have kicked his shoes off, tossed his suit jacket aside, turned on the TV, and loosened his tie- when there’s a knock on the door. It quickly become apparent _why_ the guys had begged off heading to the bar, since Flower, Tanger, and Nealer are all standing outside in the hallway, and Duper is approaching as well, with Jordy, of all people in tow.

 

“What the…” Sid manages. Geno comes up behind him with a frown.

 

“Who is?” He asks, and Sid swings the door open to show him that half the team has apparently decided to descend upon them.

 

“Come on, lovebirds. Let us in.” Flower chirps. Sid kind of has no choice, because _fuck_ here come Brooksie and Kuni down the hall too, making a beeline for the open door. Almost everyone is carrying plastic shopping bags, and if he lets them all stand out here, there’s no way they’re going to escape attention. They all crowd in, finding spaces around the room, piling on to beds and chairs and even the window sill, which is practically wide enough to be a bench. Even though it’s a pretty generous size, there is no way that this room was designed with nine NHL players in mind, so it’s more than a little cramped. Geno tilts his head inquisitively, and all Sid can do is look at him and say, “I have no idea.” He levels his gaze at Flower expectantly.

 

“We are here to celebrate,” Flower explains, “And distract you from the fact that you are away from your little girl.”

 

And Holy Fuck, Sid is looking at a roomful of people who apparently _know,_ and he could practically kill Flower, because this basically doubles the number of people, and they’re not even all on the team (which, okay, that’s being unfair to Jordy, because he’s one of the guys that Sid actually tries to keep up with). But he’s still going to kill Flower. He’s probably not doing the greatest job of hiding that fact, because Brooksie puts a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Relax, Sid.” He says assuringly. “These guys, they get it. Most of them have kids- hell, Duper’s got enough to start his own hockey team- and we all care about you guys. None of us are going to spill the beans. We’re all here to support you and Geno, because you’re our teammates, and our friends. So don’t shut us down. And don’t be pissed at Flower. He actually did a pretty good job keeping a lid on this, only telling the guys who already knew that something was up.”

 

Sid is slightly mollified, but not willing to give up his frustration that easily.

 

“Jordy is here, and he’s on another _team_.”  He points out. Brooksie laughs then, and it sounds like it’s at Sid’s expense. His suspicions are confirmed when Brooksie says,

 

“Please. Staalsy was the one who first suspected that you and Geno had a thing for each other back before he went to the Canes. He probably has the best gay-dar in the league, considering that his brother is gay.”

 

Sid is torn between arguing that he doesn’t think it works that way (since he’s _actually_ gay and has pretty much zero gay-dar) and trying to figure out which Staal Brooksie is talking about. Eric is married, but…

 

“Jared.” The answer is supplied to him by a very amused Brooksie. “My point is, this is a good thing. This is us showing that we’re happy for you. So go grab a shot and celebrate.” Brooksie slaps him on the shoulder, and sure enough, someone had pulled out beers and a fairly good bottle of vodka and is pouring shots in little plastic shot glasses and handing them around. Geno grabs two, hands one to Sid, and taps the rims of their glasses together in an approximation of a toast before downing it smoothly. Sid follows suit, feeling the cold burn searing through his chest, a counterpoint to the warmth of Geno’s hand wrapping around his own.

 

 

As it turns out, while a few of the bags the guys brought contain booze, most actually contain presents, because Flower has managed to organize not just a drinking fest, but also what may be the first baby shower in history without a female in attendance.

 

Most of the gifts are Penguins-themed. Tanger and Flower have had entirely too much fun in getting the kid-sized classic jerseys with Malkin and Crosby on the back, and Kuni and Nealer apparently just stopped by the team store and bought one of every penguin-themed kids accessory from hats to socks and crammed them into a bag.

 

Brooksie gives them a stuffed penguin toy that shivers when someone claps. (Of course, this has to be tried out, and the only thing more amusing than a bunch of full-grown men getting drunk on vodka and beer and pretending to hold a shivering toy penguin in their massive hands to warm it up is the fact that Anna does exactly the same thing when they bring it home to her, running to find a blanket and wrap the Penguin up and snuggling it close, babbling about keeping it safe and warm. Also the way that she snuggles up between them and demands that they help her make the penguin stop shivering).

 

Duper gives them pair of toddler-size mukluks made to look like penguins, and then because he’s an asshole, a freaking aqua Snuggie with penguins all over it. Geno of course thinks this hysterical and immediately gives in to pressure and puts it on. It looks absolutely ridiculous, and Sid is afraid that if the pictures that everyone is snapping get leaked to Deadspin, they might actually be more embarrassing than the time that of a bunch of Blackhawks ended up half-naked in the back of a limo with a bunch of fully-clothed women. He’s apparently not being cool enough about it though, because Geno wraps him in a surprise-hug, still wrapped in the Snuggie, which results in everyone hooting with laughter and Sid flipping them all off because they’re all bitches, even though he’s laughing by then too.

 

Jordy’s present it probably the most thoughtful though-it’s a custom-made Matroyshka doll that’s painted like a penguin wearing a Penguins jersey. The outer one reads “Malkin” with the number “24” since it’s the day of Anna’s birthday (Sid has no idea how he managed to find it out, but figures that it must have involved sneaky text messages to Taylor, since they’ve texted one or twice in the past). The next Penguin says “Crosby 87” and then the one after is “Malkin 71”. The final doll is actually painted like the Stanley Cup. He meets Jordy’s eyes across the room and thanks him- for demonstrating his understanding of their family as much as the gift itself- a blend of things that are him and Geno, with Anna as the most important element. Jordy raises his beer in a silent salute.

 

There are other things they get from everyone that are even better than the gifts. Flower tells them that Vero has offered to babysit as often as they need, and Duper says that he and Carole-Lyne make a similar offer, joking that they have so many children now, they won’t even notice one more. Tanger gives them a different invitation, which is that they can come over anytime they need to hang out and just chill, watch a game, drink some beer, and remember that they’re adults, and he and Catherine will entertain the kids. Brooks offers them food- specifically, food cooked by Erin and frozen for them to pull out whenever they need. She’s done it for most of the other families as they have kids, and now Sid can fully appreciate why, since there’s never enough time for anything. Kuni and Nealer both offer their (limited) handyman abilities if they decide to put up a swing set or something.

 

Someone jokingly questions whether that’s a good idea, which means that Kuni has to pull out his phone and scroll through to find pictures of the epic kid-playground that Paulie and Nealer apparently helped him build last year, and Nealer shoots back that at least neither of them are as bad at handiwork as Geno is at plumbing. Before long, it turns into the strangest type of party that Sid’s ever seen, with everyone pulling out their smartphones and showing around pictures of their kids being adorable, or ridiculous, or both. Even Jordy and Brooksie get in on it in their roles as “uncles extraordinaire.”

 

There’s more beer and more vodka. They finish the first bottle and start on the second. Sid watches Geno carefully place the empty bottle on the floor beside the leg of the desk, because it’s bad luck for there to be an empty vodka bottle on the table, then set up a line of shots and pour them out, handing them around.

 

“A toast.” He proclaims. “To teammates. And to families.” Everyone cheers at that, and downs the vodka together, because they’ve all learned a least a little bit about drinking vodka from their Russian teammates.

 

 

Several hours later, when it’s just the two of them in the room again and they’ve crawled into bed (the one not covered with presents) drunk and sleepy, trading numb-lipped, vodka-infused kisses, Sid concedes that he’s probably not going to kill Flower after all.

 

____________________________________________________

 

 

_October-November, 2015_

There are days that blur together in his memory, full of the little details that make them a family- taking Anna to the park, how much he falls in love with Geno every time he does something like sliding down the slide with Anna on his lap.

 

How they develop a ritual of walking to the park on their days off, trading Anna back and forth, because her little legs get too tired to walk the whole way, and they try to spend as much time bonding with her as possible, because even though she hasn’t had many attachment or adjustment issues, they still worry.

 

When they get to the park, Geno settles Anna in the swing, and Sid veers off to grab two small cups of hot apple cider from the kiosk run by the local apple orchard that appears every fall. He takes one back to Geno, and they sip them slowly while they push Anna on the swings or watch her play in the sandbox. She always wants to share, so she gets the last sip from Sid’s cup, because by then it’s cool enough that he doesn’t worry about it burning her tongue.

 

Sometimes Mario and Nathalie walk down with them, which is how they have the photo of both he and Geno in the sandbox with Anna, helping her build a sandcastle and getting sand in their socks and plastered to their jeans. Geno’s head is tilted back in laughter, Sid’s grin is stretched so wide that his eyes are squeezed into crinkles at the corners, and Anna is tilting her head back to look between them, her wispy blonde ponytail escaping its holder while she giggles so hard that you can practically hear it just by looking at the image.

 

 

Before Anna got there, Sid had spent so much time researching about adoption, reading article after article, and stressing about whether Anna will be able to form the proper parental attachments to them. (To him, really, since her attachment to Geno was pretty much immediate and miraculous.) Everything seems to be going well, but it’s not until the day that Anna climbs into his lap with her favorite book and tells him (her English gets stronger every day) "Ba story."

He asks, "Ba?" because it’s not something he’s heard from her before. She pokes him and says "Ba!" but it’s not until she does it a second time, and then a third that he realizes she means _him_ \- that just like Geno is "Papa" he's become "Ba".

(Geno thinks her name for him is hysterical, because “Ba” is apparently close to a Russian word for ‘Grandmother’ that Geno laughs. “Sid like Baboushka.” He says once, when it first becomes apparent that the name is going to stick, “spoil Annoushka, worry too much.” Sid gets annoyed at that until Geno, still with that wide, easy smile leans down to him and says, “Love Sid. Glad Sid worry and spoil Anna-Bear. Means good Papa.”

 He kisses him then, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that makes Sid’s bones melt and his blood heat. The kind of kiss that makes him wish that he could just pull Geno down on top of him, press their bodies together, align them so that each shift, each movement brings delicious friction; so that a few hard, slow thrusts are all it would take to have them falling apart like randy teenagers.

He stifles a moan, and when Geno pulls back he looks satisfied and yet still deceptively innocent. Sid doesn’t even has words in that moment, but Geno glances at the clock speculatively and says, “Annoushka probably nap for half an hour more at least…” Sid grabs him by the collar of his t-shirt and hauls him in for another kiss, because brilliance should always be rewarded.)

 

 

No number of hours of on-line research could truly have prepared him for raising a toddler though, and there are things to figure out all the time- childproofing his house, and car seats (which are the most complicated hell-traps on earth, he discovers, and Geno mocking him in Russian doesn’t help matters) not to mention navigating temper-tantrums and fixing skinned knees (Geno is the preferred parent on this. Sid apparently does it wrong. Not enough butterfly kisses, he’s informed.)

 

There are moments that he doesn’t expect though that make him so thankful he’s become a parent. The first time Anna has a bad nightmare (about being chased by a shark and ending up back in the orphanage, she tells them when she’s calmed down) and Sid wakes up to the sound of the bedroom door opening.

 

She’s standing in the doorway and sniffling, and he’s out of bed in a second, asking “What’s up, Anna-Bear?” He scoops her up and holds her against his chest, soothing her tears, and tucks her back in between himself and Geno for the rest of the night, humming a lullaby he vaguely remembers his mother singing when he was little. He feels his heart breaking, because his little girl was hurting, true- but mostly because he was able to fix it, to make her happy again just by being here and being her Dad. Her _Ba_.

 

 

 

Anna makes his house filled with color and noise and always too much laundry, too many juice spills, and too many art projects to ever completely keep up with. His life is irrevocably changed, and he realizes that he’s happier now than he’s been in his entire life before this point. He has more than hockey now- there are crayon drawings on the refrigerator, toys in the yard and chaos in the house. There’s a bathroom upstairs that filled with bath toys (and at bath time, usually filled with water. Whoever has bath duty usually emerges with damp hair and wet clothes, which results in appreciative looks and kisses that hint of further things to come when they’re in their room and the house is silent and asleep- unless they’re too tired to do anything but sleep, and the promise is exchanged instead for Geno’s arm snugged around him as they drift off to sleep.) He worries at first about kissing Geno in front of Anna, worries that it’s not entirely appropriate, but Geno shakes his head and tells him, “We in love, Sid. Good for Anna to see that. Know parents love each other. Know house full of love.” It makes sense that he thinks that way, since Geno’s parents are very affectionate with each other, happy to kiss on the kiss-cam at games, easy in their affection with their sons. He wants that for Anna. Wants her to know how much she’s loved, and wanted, and how committed he and Geno are to their family, how much she can count on them. His world is so much bigger than he ever dreamed possible, even though hardly anyone knows about it.

____________________________________________________

 

_February, 2016_

Anna loves the team, and the rink. She’s always on her best, most precocious behavior around the team. She demands to learn to skate (they would have taught her anyway, but the fact that she wants to learn makes them both very proud Papas. They get her skates for Christmas (Actually, to be technical, Santa brings the skates) and they take her out to begin learning. She picks it up pretty damn quickly, to the point where after a couple of months, she seems almost as sturdy on skates as she does in sneakers.

 The guys on the team love skating with her, and a bunch of them will stick around after practice if she's there with Nathalie, or Hayley, the nanny they finally hired. (Though Geno points out that the single guys tend to stick around even a little longer when Hayley is there.)

 They skate with Anna, and let her shoot pucks around the ice. Sometimes they’ll coordinate and reserve ice time so that all of the guys can bring their kids, and the rink is filled with the high-pitched laughter of children.

They're standing back, watching their daughter having the time of her life with their teammates (Duper, Nealer, and Brooksie have all been roped into helping the youngest kids fly across the ice) and realizing how good life is when Letang skates up and tells them, "You guys are in for a world of trouble. Your daughter just informed me that she's going to be a hockey player."

It would seem unlikely, looking at her now- black leggings, a little black tutu she insisted on wearing, and a bright yellow shirt (she wanted to wear Penguin colors this morning) with her hair perpetually sliding out of her barrettes, standing there on her tiny hockey skates, but Sid isn’t about to dismiss it. Not with the fiercely determined expression on her face, and the way that she’s already almost as good on the ice as Sid was at that age.

“Time will tell.” He says mildly to Tanger, but in his head he’s already planning to look into options for youth leagues if that’s what she decides she wants.

____________________________________________________

 

_Christmas, 2016_

Christmas in the NHL is never exactly relaxing. They’ve become accustomed to the fact that it’s two, maybe three days if they’re lucky between games, never enough time to leave Pittsburgh. They’ve started to create new traditions though. Their parents come to visit _them_ now, inhabiting the extra bedrooms at Sid’s house for several days before the holiday. Their mothers bump shoulders in the kitchen, each baking the traditional festive treats that everyone has come to enjoy. Geno has commented on how much he loves seeing his mother’s _pryaniki_ sitting beside the brightly colored snickerdoodles that Sid’s mother makes. Taylor bounces between them, helping wherever she’s needed, which is mostly supervising Anna to make sure that as she’s involved with helping, but not at risk of hurting herself.

 They watch Christmas cartoons too, and field a million and ten questions from Anna, who has become fixated on the question “why?” They can handle most of the questions, but every once in a while she comes up with a stumper, like the point at the end of _Frosty the Snowman_ when Santa’s dropped Karen off on the roof and Sid is about to stand up to change the DVD when Anna asks with a faint quiver to her lip, “How does Karen get down?” They all look at each other for a second, and then thankfully it’s Taylor to the rescue.

“Her Dad was putting up Christmas lights earlier that day, and he left the ladder up, so she climbed down the ladder.” Taylor explains sagely, tugging Anna into her lap. “We just can’t see it because it’s on the other side of the house.” Anna seems perfectly happy with that explanation, and a crisis is averted. Sid shoots his sister a thumbs-up, because that was seriously brilliant.

They go to Mario’s for Christmas Eve, which means that everyone has to go and get dressed up at least a little. Anna hangs out with their fathers while everyone else goes to get dressed, because it’s been established that its easier for Sid and Geno to get ready and _then_ get Anna into her Christmas dress.

 

They’re both almost ready to go when Geno lays a hand on Sid’s arm.

“Wait.” He says. “Have present for you. You should open it now.” He goes to the closet and pulls a bag out from behind his shoes. There’s a box inside, and when Sid opens it, he finds Geno’s cup ring nestled inside. He’s not entirely sure what that’s supposed to mean until Geno pulls the ring from the box and holds it out to him. “I want to ask,” he explains, “but you not girl, not wear diamond,” Geno shrugs. “Don’t think you want diamond. But I want to ask _will you marry me,_ and need ring for that. So what you say Sid? I not care how long we have to wait. Will you marry me?” And it’s not like they haven’t talked about it, but the gesture is sweet, and perfect, and brilliantly _Geno_.

“Yes.” He breathes, leaning in to kiss Geno. Geno only allows the briefest of kisses though before he pull back, gesturing at the bag.

“There is something else in there.” And there is, or course. It’s a thin stack of pages, stapled together, printed off from the Internet. It takes him a minute to realize that he’s looking at a real estate listing. For Geno’s house. Geno has put his house on the market.

 It hits him, what Geno’s saying, and it’s so much more than a ring.

“Geno…” he breathes. Geno smiles at him, a small, guarded smile that shows both how happy and how serious he is.

“No more _renovations,_ ” Geno tells him. “We live here. As family. All three of us.” He lets Sid kiss him then, tender and sweet, his hands trembling as he wraps his fingers in the soft cashmere of Geno’s sweater, loses himself in the softness of Geno’s lips. It is, he decides hazily, officially one of the top three days in the life of Sidney Crosby.

____________________________________________________

_2017_

Watching your child grow up is both the best and the worst thing ever. Anna constantly amazes them, surprises them, makes them look at life differently; see the world with new eyes. The joy of watching her learn and grow and master new things has no parallel.

And yet, there’s a constant heartache too. It’s little things, like the way she begs to be picked up and given a piggyback ride, or watching Geno play the game with her where she’s an airplane that he lifts up to swoop through the air, and realizing that one day, she’ll have grown up too much for those things.

It’s big things too, like the day she starts kindergarten, when they drop her off and she suddenly gets shy and doesn’t want to stay. She cries then, wanting to cling to them even when the teacher tries to coax her with crayons and modeling clay. Sid feels like the worst parent in the world that day. It helps to hear the teacher’s soothing assurances that this is normal, that most kids go through this, but neither he nor Geno are at their best that day.

It’s the time they miss too. The nights that they have to content themselves with the knowledge that someone else is tucking Anna into bed, because they’re in another city playing in front of crowds that boo when they take the ice or cheer when they take a hit. Anna starts playing on a hockey team, and taking a gymnastics class.

Anna understands, but it still makes Sid feel guilty when they have to miss one of her games or meets because they have a game. Geno gets quiet, and Sid gets loud, but it’s basically the same reaction. And they kill it on the ice as often as possible, because they’ve learned how to clear everything from their minds, channel it all into hockey. They still love hockey with every fibre of their beings. But it’s hard to live with how much of Anna’s life they have to miss.

____________________________________________________

 

_February, 2018_

Sid knows that it’s an incredible honor to be chosen to represent your country in the Olympic Games even once. Getting to do so a third time is no less of a humbling and inspiring experience than it was the first couple of times around. He’s aware that they’ve been incredibly blessed, to have the privilege to play every day for an organization they love, and then to be able to turn around and play for their countries.

The thing is though, it’s _hard_ to be in Pyeongchang, each of them playing for separate teams, competing against one another, both away from Anna, who turned six only a few days before they had to leave. There’s no room for kids and families in the Olympic Village. It’s always been that way, but standing on the other side of things, being the parent missing his kid and his family instead of the kid who pretty much only has the thrill and the pressure of competition to think about makes him aware of how much he’s changed in the last four years.

They’d decided that Anna was going to travel with Sid’s parents to Pyeongchang though (since they couldn’t really content themselves with being away from their daughter for such a long time) and stay in the same hotel with both of their families. Anna’s teacher had pretty much been a godsend on that front, and instead of throwing a fit about how much school Anna would end up missing, she’d helped them set up a project about the Olympics that Anna can do and share with the class when she gets back. So at least the guilt is lessened the tiniest bit.

  Their parents bring her to all the games, Sid and Geno try to watch each other’s games with her in the stands as long as the schedule permits, and at least they all get to sit together to see Taylor play. A few people notice, but no one really asks questions or brings attention to how he close he and Geno seem. It’s not exactly ideal, but they make it work.

 

 If they’d known that that was the only year that all three of them would make it to the Olympics though, Sid thinks they would have tried to appreciate it more.

____________________________________________________

 

_August 3, 2019_

The day in July when he officially marries Geno back home in Nova Scotia dawns bright, and clear, and perfect. The few white clouds scud peacefully across the blue sky, and a brisk breeze keeps it from feeling too hot in the sun. It’s a simple, quiet ceremony, mostly just their families and a handful of friends. The Lemieuxs are there of course, because apart from essentially being family, Mario is the one who performs the ceremony.

Taylor and Denis stand up for them, Anna carries the rings they’d picked out for each other (platinum bands, nearly identical but for the fact that Geno’s band is grooved and Sid’s isn’t) and both of their mothers end up crying.

They’re not stupid enough to think that making their union official will pass without notice, but they try to keep everything as quiet as possible. In the end, the guest list only extends about as far as the families of the guys who first came to the hotel room to toast and congratulate them when Anna was adopted, with the addition of Gonch, Army, Jack, and their families. Brooksie and Erin don’t make it because her due date is supposed to be the day before, but they send a congratulatory video message in any case.

There’s dancing, and thanks mostly to Duper’s brood, there are almost as many kids on the dance floor as there are adults.

At the end of the night, Anna crashes and demands to be picked up, so they end up swaying on the dance floor with Anna sitting sleepily on Geno’s shoulders, her head tilted into Geno’s as she fights to keep her eyes open, insisting that she’s not tired.

 

One week later, Sid signs the adoption paperwork. Finally, for the first time, Anna is his on paper, and the official documents match what they’ve been living for years.

____________________________________________________

 

_September, 2019_

They’re called in for a meeting with PR and management when they get back to Pittsburgh. It’s not like there haven’t been meetings about them before- there were meetings back in June when they invited people to their wedding, when they officially informed the organization that they were together. Those initial meetings were really more about assuring that management supports them though, pretending that they’re nothing less than ecstatic that their two biggest stars are gay, and are in fact, gay for each other. In that meeting, people were falling over themselves to be politically correct, supportive, and reassuring- at least while they figured out what they even needed to talk about.

Since then, Cody Brennan, a rookie playing for the Kings has come out of the closet, and everyone is speculating about what this _means_ for the league, the sport of hockey, and professional sports in general. (Sid can tell them: It means Cody Brennan plays hockey and dates men. Further speculation is pretty much just invasive, and stupid. Almost as stupid as this meeting they’re being called into, which is pretty much the epitome of stupid. As stupid as... he can’t really think of an analogy, and is forced to acknowledge that he may not be in the best mood this morning).

People are speaking very politely, but they’re still tossing around terms like “PR Debacle” and “reaction of the public” and “Potential outfall” and Sid just feels his lips compressing into a thinner and thinner line. He’s been trained to be in front of the press since he was a kid, knows how much maneuvering and consideration goes into crafting messages and maintaining the reputation of the team. But he and Geno aren’t just a bomb that’s ticking down to an explosion, and he’s getting seriously annoyed at sitting in a meeting that’s turned into a discussion of how to manage the image of his family while he still hasn’t been asked for his input.

One of the PR guys is going on about how they need to “get in front of this” and issue press releases. ( _This_ being their marriage, which has thus far been reduced to a pronoun, likened to an oncoming train, and treated like a bundle of unstable dynamite, and they’ve been here less than fifteen minutes)  Another guy launches into a discussion on the potential ramifications where Russia is concerned, as though all of these possibilities had never occurred to them before they made the decision to get married. But being prepared to meet challenges as they arise is entirely different than going on the offensive and doing talk shows, which is what the discussion has veered off into. He can tell that this line of thought is stressing Geno out from the way he’s fiddling absently with his wedding ring and staying very, very silent.

Someone suggests that they should film a documentary to show their family life, and Russia guy counters that that might do more harm than good, so the entire room is off to the races again. Finally, Sid has had it.

“That’s enough.” He says quietly, and when no one listens to him, he repeats it again, significantly louder. “We are not doing a documentary.” He says firmly. “We are not inviting cameras into our home and our personal life. Our daughter is not going to be giving interviews. We have a statement prepared for the press, but we’re not going to create a story that’s straight-up sensationalism by releasing it now. When someone asks about us being married, we’ll answer truthfully. But Geno and I aren’t seeking out attention regarding our private affairs. We understand that the attention of the press affects the team, but we’re here to play hockey. That hasn’t changed. _That’s_ what we do press about, not our home life.”

“Yes, but there’s a new element of your story, now that you’re gay…” a younger man speaks up, and Sid finally loses his patience.

“I’ve always _been_ gay.” He snaps in frustration. The kid looks mortified and begins to stammer, trying to backtrack. Sid actually feels a little bad for him.

“Yes, but you’ve never been gay to your fans.” Naomi swoops in smoothly. She’s only been here since April, but she’s taken over her task of running most of PR with great aplomb. Sid actually finds her very intimidating. “You’ve avoided being a story on this front for long enough that when it breaks, it _will_ be a story.” She holds up her hand. “That’s not a judgment, just a fact. You’re living on borrowed time. Somehow, it hasn’t broken yet, because your marriage license and the adoption papers were apparently handled by people with great pride in the confidential nature of their jobs, or by one of thirty people in all of Canada who aren’t hockey fans and didn’t notice your names. But it _will_ happen, and we need to be prepared. You deserve to have us be prepared, and the team does too, because if we’re not, then what should just be a story becomes a distraction, which is detrimental to everyone involved.”

She’s good, Sid admits. She knows what buttons to push, knows that he’ll do anything to protect the team, even if it means pasting a pleasant expression in his face and letting half a dozen people pick his life apart. Under the table, he lets his knee knock into Geno’s and rest there, knowing that while he himself might prefer having plenty of space at times like this, Geno takes comfort from physical connection.

In the end, they agree to revisions on the press statement, as well as a few alternate drafts to handle different contingencies. There are talking points for them to memorize, and they agree to Naomi’s suggestion that when their news comes to light, they work with a special media consultant. They leave the meeting feeling restless though, and drive to pick Anna up at school.

They go to the zoo, because it’s impossible to stay frustrated when Anna is dragging them through all of her favorite exhibits to stare at bears and lions and pandas. They end their visit the same way they always do, watching the penguins at the Aquarium and pointing out which penguins are like guys on the team. Sid holds her up so she can see, and Geno stands behind them, close enough that  Sid can lean back into him a little while they watch Anna point and exclaim, adding their own comments and jokes every so often. No one pays them too much attention, and the handful of fans that do recognize them don’t make too much of a production of it. Not for the first time, Sid thinks about how much he appreciates Pittsburgh.

____________________________________________________

 

_November, 2019_

The day the story breaks starts out totally normal. It’s a Thursday, gray and overcast in that way that doesn’t really indicate rain or snow, just means that it’s November, and the sun probably isn’t going to make an appearance for a couple of days. They’re actually running a bit late that morning, which means that Anna gets a rare toaster strudel for breakfast (because it’s better than nothing) and Geno drives them to their favorite diner for omelets after they drop her off at school.

In retrospect, the first sign that something is amiss comes when a group of what are probably college students at a table across the restaurant start taking pictures on their phones. Pittsburgh is a friendly enough city, and they’re big enough celebrities that they get recognized fairly often. Usually they’ll sign a couple of autographs, pose for a picture or two, and move on before a crowd can gather. All of the regulars at the diner know them though, so it’s usually fairly low-key, which is part of the reason why they like the place. Someone on the sidewalk snaps their picture again as they leave, and while it’s unusual, neither of them think too much of it.

They head in for the morning skate like usual. A few minutes into the drive, Flower calls. Sid answers, apologizing for being late. (They’re not really, but he, Flower, and Geno are typically the first ones there and Flower’s probably waiting for them.)

“It’s fine.” Flower tells him, waving it off. “But Deadspin posted a story about you earlier this morning. I’m sending you a link. I thought maybe you could use a heads up.”

“Do you still have an alert set on me?” Sid wonders aloud, even as he clicks over to speaker and pulls up the link.

“But of course, Captain.” Flower says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Sid’s not really listening anymore though, because he’s focused on the Deadspin article. The article isn’t just about him, it’s about him and Geno. It doesn’t seem like the worst thing though; the title is just _Crosby and Malkin:_ _Penguins_ _Epic Bromance?_ but there are a lot of pictures, and snarky captions beneath each one.

“Can I call you back?” Sid asks, and ends the call as soon as Flower says “sure.”

“How Bad?” Geno asks, concern edging his voice.

“Not that bad, so far.” Sid says, because it’s not like there haven’t been entire Deadspin articles before, speculating about Sid and Geno’s friendship, alleging that they’ve had a fight, or that they’re feuding every time they hang out with one of their other teammates. This is different though, because this time it’s a compilation of photos of them acting like a couple- standing shoulder to shoulder, walking with Anna. There are images of them hugging in celebration after making a goal, of them getting into Geno’s car, of them sitting with the rest of the team at a bar and leaning into each other. “It’s lots of pictures of us, and they sort-of-speculate that we might be more than just friends, but they don’t really come out and say it.” If only they knew.

Geno nods, then snorts out a laugh. “Come out.” He says. “Bad pun.” And because Sid hadn’t caught it himself, he’s still laughing quietly when they pull into the parking lot.

Apparently the college kids from this morning read Deadspin, because by the time everyone is ready to hit the ice, the photo of them in the diner has been added to the article. Flower’s alert catches the addition, and the guys all chirp them a bit as they head out to skate.

Naomi is there when they come off the ice, a young man with a handsome face and a power suit standing beside her.

“We should talk.” She says. Twenty minutes later, they’re showered, changed, and sitting in one of the smaller conference rooms with take-out boxes in front of them.

“First things first.” Naomi begins. “Meet Julian.” He extends his hand across the table for introductory handshakes. “From this moment forward, he’s your personal PR consultant.” She explains. Sid looks at Naomi sharply.

“I thought we had decided that a personal PR rep wasn’t necessary yet.” He frowns. “The article this morning made a couple of jokes, but nothing that incendiary. I think that this might be a bit of an overreaction.” He glances in Julian’s direction, offering a belated, “No offense.” He expects to hear the token ‘none taken’ in response, but instead, Julian looks him directly in the eye.

“They have it.” He says plainly, and there’s a level of gravitas in his tone that makes Sid want to listen to him, despite how much younger he looks. “Deadspin has a picture of your wedding license.” That brings him up short

“How did they get the photo?” Geno asks after a moment. Julian shrugs.

“They paid for it.” He responds. “They paid more for it than anything they’ve ever bought before.”

And so, it begins.

Sid has been around cameras and reporters practically his entire life. Geno’s no stranger to it either, though he’s much less comfortable around them, partly because doing interviews in your non-native language isn’t the easiest or most fun thing to do. They obviously knew that there would be added scrutiny, that their lives would become a fishbowl for a while. It was part of what they’d had to consider every step of the way in their relationship. They thought they were braced for it, prepared.

They weren’t.

There are already reporters gathered by the time their meeting is finished, enough that Geno curses steadily in Russian as he drives, trying to thread the BMW through the dozen or so guys standing outside the gate. At least three cars follow them home, not including Julian, who now apparently gets to follow them everywhere, talking about things like media strategy, timing, and controlling the narrative. Sid is actually starting to like him, because he seems to know what he’s doing, but that doesn’t make it any less strange to head upstairs for their pre-game nap and leave Julian tapping away on his tablet in Geno’s study.

They usually time their nap so they can pick Anna up from school and spend a few minutes with her before Hayley arrives to babysit. Due to the number of reporters and photographers camped outside though, they take Julian’s advice and ask Nathalie to pick her up instead.

Anna bounds through the door with her usual energy. She’s curious, wants to know why there are people outside with cameras. They explain that some people found out that they got married, and that they’re very excited. Then they have to try to explain that not everyone is going to be excited, that some people are upset, because Julian has already warned them that they’re going to have to deal with shouted insults and slurs from people trying to get them to stare into the camera, goad them into a reaction.

Anna frowns in a way which clearly demonstrates how stupid she thinks that is. “Why aren’t they happy?” she asks. Geno gets to field this answer, because he’s still better at this sort of thing.

“Some people think that two men love each other, then they not strong, not able to play hockey. They wrong, but they still say things sometimes.”

“Like when people say that girls can’t play hockey?” Anna asks, and Sid feels his heart constrict, because having to tell his little girl about homophobia only to realize that she’s already learned about sexism makes him disgusted with humanity.

“Just like that.” Sid tells her. “And those people are wrong too.”

“Yes.” Geno agrees, ruffling her hair. “Annoushka best at hockey.” She grins at them like that statement is the most obvious fact in the world. She’s totally Geno’s daughter.

Hayley arrives a few minutes later, looking shell-shocked from all of the attention that gets deluged on her just for driving through the gate. Geno makes her a cup of coffee while she hangs up her coat, and Julian launches into a quick run-down of what she can expect over the next few days as she’s watching Anna- reporters trying to call, people wanting to get in her face, get a quote or an exclusive about the intimate details of Crosby-Malkin family life. She looks a little wide-eyed, but otherwise takes in all in a stride. She asks for instructions on how they want her to handle various scenarios, and Sid has never been more grateful for her presence in their lives. He tells Geno later that they’re going to have to come up with one hell of a Christmas bonus for her, given everything she’s going to be putting up with.

 

By the game that night, it’s so much worse. There have always been fans, and phones, and reporters and cameras. There have been plenty of times when Sid has been hemmed in by a crowd of people, reliant on security guys to clear the way. There’s always been the media scrum, and interviews, and endless attention. He’s used to being in the public eye, but it’s always been for hockey, part and parcel of playing the sport he lives and breathes. This is different. Right from the start, it’s vicious and personal, intrusive and startling.

The guys on the team are continually harassed, asked for their opinions, their reactions to finding out that their teammates are gay. Reporters want shock and outrage, so they keep asking, never satisfied with the answers where the guys are accepting or happy for them. The entire team has to be pulled in for an emergency session on PR protocols as a result of the increased media presence, Julian becomes a constant fixture in their lives, they have to hire private security, and they try to get used to the blinding, crowding cage of humanity and flashbulbs that surrounds them wherever they go. It’s exhausting at the best of times, and downright frightening at the worst.

It’s not just Sid and Geno that are caught in it, or even the team. It’s Sid’s parents, who can’t answer the front door anymore because of reporters tracking down their address, it’s Taylor, who has to get a new number because some obnoxious blogger got ahold of it, it’s Geno’s family, who are judged and shunned, and who are at risk of violating Russia’s new laws if they openly support their son. They don’t tell Geno the details of what they go through, because they don’t want him to worry, but it eats at him anyway. And it’s Anna, who is suddenly under an alarming level of scrutiny. Everywhere they go, from dropping her off at school to the grocery store, they’re followed, photographed, and shouted at. There are tabloid headlines that question whether they’re capable of raising her; since they’re gay, since they’re gone so often, and a dozen other reasons. Sid winces every time he sees them, knowing that his Mom sees them too.

Anna starts to be intimidated by the photographers, starts wanting to hold someone’s hand every time they have to walk out to the car. (They don’t walk to the park anymore). She doesn’t like the flashes or the yelling, but what really terrifies her is how close they get, how in-your-face they are. She shrinks from them, scared in a way that she’s never been before, and it takes everything he and Geno have not to haul off and punch the guys who are tormenting their daughter. There are plenty of angry words exchanged, and while no punches are thrown, there are enough unflattering photos of them frowning, yelling, or holding each other in check to fill every magazine and online edition that wants a piece of them.

A few weeks in, they make the mistake of going to a bar with the team after a win, and the paparazzi crowd the bar, waiting in the street for them to come back out. The photographers pile up enough at the front door that they can’t hope to get out that way, and have to duck out the back. Nealer drives his car around and trades keys with them for the night, just so they can leave. After a couple of pretty disastrous trips to the grocery store, they start getting their groceries delivered regularly, only going out when it’s unavoidable.

They amass a collection of hats and scarves and sunglasses, take a tip from Hollywood and wear the same outerwear to every game so that the paparazzi can’t get unique shots. Everyone from the girl who cuts Geno’s hair to the guy who does their snow removal is approached for a quote. Not even their home is sacred. They find people rummaging through their garbage looking for dirt to use in a story, and photographers climb the wall around the property to invade their lawn to try to get shots through the windows with a telephoto lens, so they have to keep the shades drawn all the time.

Their game suffers because of it- not terribly, but enough that the media continues to speculate and the story keeps its legs. It takes months to die down, and then only because it’s not really possible for paparazzi to make a living by hanging out in Pittsburgh and stalking them. Even then, as it dwindles, there are still the fans with cellphones and the ever-present promise of Deadspin. There are times that the dust gets kicked back up again for a day or two, but eventually, they’re able to get back to living their lives. As it turns out, they’re not interesting enough to warrant constant scrutiny.

Sid thinks he’ll never go back to trusting the world the way he did before those hellish months, when he learned just how awful people could be, sticking a camera in a seven-year-old’s face and furiously snapping the shutter even as she cried and begged them to stop taking pictures of her and her Dads.

It’s not possible to forget that judgment, the feeling of having to brace yourself every day to face the world’s scrutiny not just for what you do in your job, on the ice, but for who you fundamentally _are_. It’s not like it ever fully disappears. They learn to live with it though. Every time he gets cynical about the notoriety though, he opens the folder they keep on the desktop of the computer with the letters.

They never got most of the hate mail. It was screened before it ever came to them, the messages with slurs and insults and threats held back because no one needs to see that. Sid wonders sometimes whose job that was, who he should thank for taking in the hateful words meant for him and Geno and acting as a buffer.

They get the good letters instead, the ones that remind him why it’s important that he and Geno endure all of the shit- because of the kids in Bethlehem, in Liberty Corner, in Halifax, in Indianapolis and in Moscow who write them to say thank you for being a role model, for being a reminder that it’s okay to be different, for being proof that you can be gay and still play hockey, or live any of a million and one other dreams. That’s the good that comes out of their experience, and that’s what they try to think about on the worst days, when it feels like this insanity might get the best of them.

____________________________________________________

 

_March, 2020_

One of the hardest days is the one where Geno takes a call during one of Anna’s games. It’s halfway through an intermission, so it’s not quite as strange as if he had taken it while the kids were actively playing, but Geno doesn’t usually let anything distract from a game, even when the players haven’t broken into the double digits age-wise. Sid turns from the ice in time to see the frown set on Geno’s face. He stands after a few seconds and makes his way down the bleachers to take the call into the corridor, speaking softly in Russian the whole time. He’s gone for a while and makes it back with only a minute or two left in the final period, even though he’s been hovering near the door and watching through the glass the whole time. Sid can see that he’s upset- he’s wound as tight as a coiled spring, almost vibrating with tension. Sid knows better though than to ask Geno what’s going on though, especially in a crowd of other hockey parents. They’ll talk when Geno’s ready.

It’s not until they’re home, Anna’s had a snack, her homework has been checked, her lunch is packed for the next day, and she’s settled into bed that Sid presses the issue. He doesn’t try to ask outright though, because when it comes to insisting he’s fine, Geno is actually more stubborn than Sid most of the time. Instead, Sid comes downstairs to the kitchen where Geno’s just started the dishwasher, walks to the freezer, pulls out the vodka, and pours them each a shot.

“To whatever’s been bothering you.” He toasts expectantly, raising his glass in a tiny salute. Geno broods for a few seconds before he picks up his own shot, taps it to Sid’s and swallows it down. Sid follows suit, trying to suppress a grimace (he’s still not a huge fan of hard alcohol, and they have a game tomorrow, but this is clearly one of the rare nights when a drink is exactly what Geno needs, so he’s not going to wimp out).

“Denis called.” Geno sighs heavily, pushing his glass away. “He say, maybe should think about stay in North America during offseason this year. He say, Mama and Papa want to see what it is like here in a summer. They like visiting for our wedding, like to stay more.” Geno gives a disgusted snort.

Sid knows that this is unusual. Every offseason, Geno has taken Anna to visit Russia for several weeks- both to keep up appearances that he’s a normal single father, and to show Anna the country of her birth, letting her spend time around family and Russian friends and revisit her roots. Sid has never gone, because it’s too hard to explain, too hard to hide. Instead, he stays and trains, watches Jeffery, Skypes enough that he thinks he should have bought stock in the company, and pretends that he doesn’t loathe the month of July. It’s a sacrifice they’ve made for years, up until they decided to get married and have everything out in open. Geno staying the whole summer would be beyond unusual. Sid has a twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I know what my brother really trying to say.” Geno grimaces. “He say that Russia is not a good place for us now. And then he _actually_ say, Mama and Papa think maybe they move to Pittsburgh, spend more time around us and Anna.”

And okay, no. Sid is well aware how much the Malkins love Russia, how they’ve never wanted to leave before. They visit for weeks at a time, sure. They visit often. They’ve probably been to as many of Anna’s school functions as Sid and Geno have, at this point. But they always want to go home to Russia.

“That’s… Wow.” Sid says, because he’s not really sure how else to respond.

“So I know something is wrong, yes? So I make Denis talk. He not want to, but I _make_ him. He tells me, things are bad, and get worse for past few months. Some people at home, is all good, they not care that I am gay, because of fame from hockey. Many others though… They think, is disease, or that being gay happen because hurt as child. Mama and Papa are blamed for poor parenting. Accused of making son gay. Mama get spit on in store. Someone shove paper under door, say is their fault I turn out wrong.”

 Geno, who never cries, looks like he might just break down and do so now. Sid pulls him into an embrace, dragging Geno in tight against him.

“You’re not _wrong_.” He says fervently, trying to sound supportive, and not angry, because where the _fuck_ does anyone come off saying shit like that about Geno, or about anyone at all. He played in Sochi, he was asked about the laws even back then. He knew things weren’t easy in Russia, but this is happening now, to people that he knows and loves, and it makes it a thousand times more painful. “You’re Geno, and you’re perfect.” He murmurs. Geno snorts into his hair.

“You have to say that.” He says, and it’s deadpan enough that Sid knows he’s joking. “You my husband. Is part of contract.” He manages a weak smile that drops as he shakes his head. “But not everyone think that way. Many at home…they think that gay people not really people. They think that all gay people are… How you say…Pedophiles, yes? Who corrupt children. They are very angry that I lie to adopt Anna. Think that this life is bad for her. That is bad if a child have gay parents.”

“That’s all bullshit.” Sid protests. “You have to know that.”

“Of course I know that, Sid!” Geno explodes. “Not marry you, not adopt Anna if I think liking men makes me bad person. Not _stupid._ But they hurt my Mama, Sid. They say bad things, they yell things at her in the street. One neighbor even say Papa should have turned me in to police. I find out, two people from church give my parents card for someone who can _cure_ me. And Papa has to say thank you to them, for that they kind enough to think of our family. They keep these things from me so that I do not feel bad for what I have put them in. I make Denis tell me all this on the phone.”

Geno squares his jaw and reaches for the vodka to pour himself another shot and knock it back.

“Then he tell me worse news. Kremlin has bill for many years, says that Gays are not able to be good parents, so can take adopted children away from parents. Rumor is, they sign it now. Any day.” Sid recognizes now that Geno isn’t just angry, or hurt. Underneath it, he’s afraid.

“They can’t take Anna from us,” Sid reassures them both.” She’s my daughter too. She has Canadian citizenship now, so even if they tried, they’d never be able to do it.”

Geno slumps against the counter miserably.

“Yes, in a long run. But is too risky for going back to Russia this summer. Have to stay here, be safe.” He chews on his lower lip.  “First time ever I not go home.” The misery radiating off of him is practically visible. “Makes heart hurt,” he confesses.

“I know.” Sid says, wrapping is arm around Geno. Geno leans into him, burrows his face against Sid’s neck. They stay like that for several minutes, standing against the counter, the faint tick of the old clock in the living room getting louder as the silence settles. Sid cards his fingers through Geno’s hair in a gentle, soothing motion. He wants to fix this, but knows this isn’t something that can just be mended.

“You know one of the things I love about you?” he asks instead after a long pause, not really expecting Geno to respond. “I love that no matter what happens, no matter how awful it gets, no matter how much you get hurt, you still love your country. Despite all of the bad things that happen, you can see the good things too, and you still love Russia. You’re still proud of being Russian. I love that strength in you, that fierce pride. I admire that in you. Even when I don’t understand it myself.”

 Geno smiles sadly, nodding to himself.

“Russia cannot be understood with the mind alone,” he agrees, and it sounds almost like he’s quoting something.

There’s a horrible ache in Sid’s chest. Geno is the steady, even-tempered one in their relationship. He grounds them both, and isn’t one to complain if he can help it. Sometimes that makes it too easy to overlook what he’s been forced to give up, what the ability to lead their lives has cost him. Sid knows he’d never trade what they have though, and that makes him all the more determined to try to make the best of this.

 No matter what, they have each other, and Anna, and plenty of people who love them, and most days, that’s enough. He just wishes that on days like today, he had something more to give, something that would make everything okay, and hates that he doesn’t have the answers.

____________________________________________________

 

_June, 2021_

Anna’s nine the year they win the Stanley Cup again- old enough to appreciate the passion and the intensity and the sacrifice of what it takes to win, old enough to be screaming ecstatically from the stands at every game (they spoil her by letting her come, staying up late, taking the time off of school, even though they plan with her teachers and find ways for her to do homework and class work so she doesn’t fall behind.) But looking up and knowing that she’s there, sitting between both sets of their parents makes them want the victory even more.

When they win, it’s Geno who’s stick made the puck find the back of the net off an assist from Sid, and it’s Geno that he hands the cup to once he hoists it in the air to the roar of screaming fans. (He was already going to, but Tanger’s insistence that if the person he hands the cup to isn’t Geno, _Tanger_ will never forgive him is oddly reassuring.) There are pictures, and interviews, and hugs, and showing Anna the Lord Stanley, and champagne showers in the locker room, and ridiculous celebrations that last all night and are supremely well-deserved.

The difference is that this time, they head home to a house with a baby sitter and a nine-year-old, and get to peer in to her room, shushing each other exaggeratedly since they’re both a little drunk, and see her little blond head asleep on the pillow, clutching an Iceburgh plushie and know that this Cup win means even more than the last.

There’s a picture that gets taken that year up at the house they bought in Nova Scotia the previous year, once it became clear that a trip back to Russia was out of the question. The photo is taken during Geno’s day with the cup, where they have everyone- both of their families (Jeffery and Sam included) gathered around the cup, he and Geno lifting it together about waist-high with Anna reaching under and pretending she’s the one lifting the 35 pound trophy with an expression of exaggerated triumph. It’s Sid’s favorite picture, and he gets it printed on canvas to hang over the fireplace, and carries a copy with him in his wallet at all times.

 

_Summer, 2021_

The day before Olympic Training Camp lists are released for Barcelona, Geno gets a call from a friend named Nikolai (that Sid has never met) to warn him that he's not going to be on the list. It's not like they didn't know it was a possibility, but it cuts Geno to the quick, tears him apart nonetheless. He's been officially rejected by his country, publicly shunned.

 No one can pretend that it’s for any reason other than being gay either, since he’s put up some of the best point totals of his career this past season and is in prefect health. It causes a lot of controversy, and generates a lot of media coverage, but Geno doesn't want to talk about it. He gives polite, non-committal answers when he can’t dodge the questions and cuts interviews short when the topic comes up.

Gonch calls, outraged on Geno’s behalf, and so do Ovechkin and several of the other Russians. Geno takes the calls and texts, but the only one he ever unloads to over the phone is Gonch. The rest he only thanks, lets them talk for a couple minutes, and then ends the call. They very carefully never talk about the few Russians in the NHL that they don’t hear from, who don’t send their condolences, and what that implies. Geno doesn’t need that reminder, doesn’t need the negativity.

He talks to Sid too, long conversations in bed in the dark, or short, frustrated comments that come when Geno is brushing his teeth, or coming in from walking the dogs. He talks to Taylor too. They sit up late on the screen porch of the summer house some nights, drinking endless amounts of tea (or occasionally vodka) in the cool night air, and staring out at the stars. Sid tries to stay up with them on some of those nights, but he usually ends up sliding into bed sometime before midnight while his sister and husband sit up for another hour or two. He likes that they get along so well, drifts off to the indistinct murmur of their voices drifting up through the open window

It’s in one of those late-night conversations that Taylor comes up with the idea of Geno taking Anna to Disneyland while Sid is at Team Canada’s training camp. It makes it a little easier for Geno not to have it rubbed in his face how much he’s missing out, and Sid loves all the pictures Geno texts him of Anna wearing Mickey Mouse ears, posing with princesses, and making funny faces in lines.

She buys them matching wallets there out of her own savings- Geno’s is red and Sid’s is blue, and they both feature a picture of a hoard of Disney characters smiling up at them. They’re tacky and ridiculous, and they both of them use them for years, until they’re cracking and the characters are worn to nothing more than the faded ghost of a silhouette. It doesn’t matter what the wallets looks like, or if they get chirped about them. It only matters that Anna is the one who chose them.

____________________________________________________

 

_February, 2022, Barcelona_

Even though he’s not on the ice in Barcelona, Geno is there in the stands. He sits with their parents and Taylor and Anna when Sid plays, and with Anna and Sid when Taylor's on the ice. Anna's more inspired than ever to play hockey- she idolizes her aunt Taylor, and pretty much wants to grow up to be her one day. (Taylor is incredible, so Sid's essentially fine with that). He’s especially proud when he gets to watch his baby sister standing on the podium there in Barcelona as the strains of ‘O Canada’ fill the air. He grins and claps and cries a bit, and isn't even a tiny bit ashamed. And afterward, he turns to his husband and kisses him and their daughter, holding them close and letting his happy tears disappear against Anna's hair and Geno's shirt.

Taylor, of course, never misses the chance to chirp him about winning gold when he only wins silver. From anybody else it would bother him, but the fierce pride he has in his sister means that he’s able to be pretty happy about it anyway. At least they beat Russia, which was pretty much the only thing he cared about doing in these games. It’s a shallow victory, but he’s able to content himself with it.

____________________________________________________

 

_March, 2022, Washington D.C._

They’re in the visitors’ locker room at the Verizon Center, celebrating a 4-2 victory over the Capitals when Sid gets a call from one of Taylor’s teammates. She tells him that Taylor took a bad hit during a game and had to be transported to the hospital. Two minutes later, Geno's pulling up flights to Boston on his own phone before Sid even finishes taking down the hospital information from the trainer that Krista handed him off to.

There are no flights this late, but Sid doesn't want to wait seven hours for a flight in the morning. They could drive there in less time, he argues. And so Geno pulls up a site for a rental car and tells him they can split the driving. He actually drives most of the way, while Sid texts most of the ride- with Taylor and his parents and probably a few of the trainers, trying to figure out how bad it really is. The upshot is that _bad_ seems to be a best-case scenario. She definitely has a concussion, which is troubling enough. Sid is all too familiar with concussions and how unpredictable they are, and Taylor’s no stranger to them either. The knee injury sounds pretty gruesome too. Geno can relate to that, the memory of his own knee surgery making him twist his lips in sympathy as Sid shares information with him.

They're with Taylor when she gets the news- In addition to the concussion, the MRI revealed a severely torn ACL. She’ll absolutely have to have surgery, with six months to a year's recovery time, and roughly a 50 percent chance of playing again. Sid offers to let her stay with them while she rehabs, and she accepts, gratitude evident despite the pain and worry etched into her features.

Having Taylor there is good for Anna. She's there at all of Anna's games once she’s cleared for light activity again, and is more than happy to offer additional coaching and pointers to the kids on Anna's team. Sid finds the house to be overrun with eleven year old girls more often than not, which is more terrifying than he cares to admit. They confuse him more than he thinks is normal, and seem to be intimidated by him, but take to Geno instantaneously every time. It's good though, because Geno is amazing with kids- he's a natural.

It's nice having Taylor around the house. She was only a kid when he left for Shattuck, and they missed out on so much of growing up together when most of their conversations happened over Skype. They’ve become close as they grew up, but there’s something about here being here now that feels _right_.

It helps that Taylor and Geno get along really well. Sid has literally come home from a meeting to find the two of them sitting and braiding friendship bracelets (and okay, they were entertaining Anna and two of her friends, teaching them how to make them as a craft project, but still.) Sid sees them swap the bracelets, and Geno wears it for several weeks because they have a winning streak, and Sid decides that ridiculous as it is, it’s also a good luck charm, so Geno has to keep wearing it until it finally unravels.

Taylor says it helps to be around Geno, since he’s been through the surgery and the recovery process before. He becomes her cheerleader, the one who pushes her to keep doing the physical therapy even though it hurts. Then, when Geno strains a ligament and isn’t able to play on it for a few weeks, Taylor returns the favor. Life falls into an easy rhythm.

Geno claims she likes him better than Sid, but it’s a joke they’re all in on. Normally she’ll drop a kiss on each of their cheeks and tell them she loves them both equally. Sometimes she’ll offer to sway her approval in favor of whoever passes her the maple syrup or gets her a glass of water. Then, when she really wants to one-up them, she declares that she likes Anna best of all, and neither of them can argue with her on that count.

It fits, having her there, and Sid knows he’s going to miss her like he’d miss a limb when she’s cleared to play again, and goes back up to Boston.

____________________________________________________

_  
May, 2024_

Except, Taylor doesn’t just heal up and head back to her team. Fourteen months of recovery and rehab, as well as a second surgery later, Taylor is forced to admit that her knee is never going to hold up to the rigors of professional or Olympic hockey again. She can still skate for enjoyment, and to practice with Anna, but her hockey career is over.

She’s resilient though, and maintains a pretty positive outlook on life, so she’s aware that she has plenty to fall back on. She's a gold-medalist in her own right, and happens to be the sister of one of the most renowned hockey players in the world (with the bonus of an equally talented brother-in-law). She ends up with all kinds of offers to coach women’s hockey at varying levels and can pretty much go anywhere she likes. Ultimately though, she takes a position at Chatham University so she can stay in Pittsburgh.

 

Sid finds her sitting on the front stoop the day after she accepts the position, watching Anna practice stick-handling in the driveway with a neon orange ball. He sits down beside her, close enough that their arms bump together.

“Hey.” He says.

“Hey yourself.” She answers, nudging him with her shoulder, though she keeps her eye trained on Anna.

“Listen.” He starts, “I not sure the right way to say this without sounding like a tool, so I’m just going to say it. I’m glad you’re staying here. I know you wanted to go back and play…but since that’s not an option, I’m really, really glad you’re going to stay.”

Taylor smiles at him, affectionate and also a little bit pityingly.

“You’re not a tool, Sid.” She says and leans into him a little. “Everything happens for a reason, right?” She takes a deep breath and toys with the hair elastic on her wrist. “So I don’t play anymore. I coach. It sucks not to be out there in the games, but it’s still hockey, right? And this? You, and Anna, and Geno, getting to be around my family? That’s not just a consolation prize.”

 Sid slides his arm around her shoulders in a one-armed hug. She’s more well-adjusted than he could ever hope to be in the same situation, has clearly spent time thinking about this over the past year, figuring out how to cope with the painful possibility of not playing anymore. He knows her well enough to see that it’s still a source of discomfort for her, but her fierce determination burns brighter than the disappointment, so he’s fairly certain she’s going to be okay.

“I’m buying my own house though.” She tells him solemnly.

“You don’t have to do that!” He protests. He’s gotten used to having her around.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to.” She tells him. “Even if I’m still here ninety percent of the time, I want to have my own space. And you want me to also, because then Anna can come over to my place for girls night every once in a while, or just to hang after school, and you and Geno can have this massive house that you built all to yourselves for a couple hours at a time…” her voice trails off, leaving him to catch her not-so-subtle meaning.

Sid really hadn’t considered it from that angle. He finds himself much more amenable to the idea than he had been a couple of minutes ago. Though he really doesn’t want to reflect too deeply on his baby sister thinking about the intimate details of his life.

“I’ll call my Realtor tomorrow.” He agrees a little too readily, and is rewarded with Taylor’s bemused laughter.

“ _Now_ you’re a tool.” She informs him, but elbows him playfully enough that he knows she’s kidding.

____________________________________________________

 

_July, 2024_

They take a trip to Russia during the offseason in 2024, after some of the more extreme and ridiculous laws regarding homosexuality that have piled up over the past decade and a half are finally abolished that June.

 

Geno is contacted by a number of friends and hockey acquaintances in Russia who urge him to return home for a while. He’s wary, but decides it’s time to take Anna back to see their home country for the first time since she was seven.

 

Sid figures it’s only fair, since they’ve spent the past five summers up at the lake house in Nova Scotia that he purchased the same week of Denis’s memorable phone call about not returning to Russia.  It’s quite the experience, since he’s never really been before, apart from Sochi. They have more positive encounters than he expected, and only a handful of negative ones. He hopes that people are right when they say that the tide is starting to shift.

 

It makes him incredibly happy to see how easily Anna fits in in her native land, even after so much time away. Her Russian as smooth as ever after a few days, and the way that she and Geno bond so perfectly over their shared heritage sets up a sweet ache in Sid’s chest. Sid is struck by how Anna is, in many ways, a child of the world rather than a single country. She has in her Russia, and Canada, and even the US spun together in her identity. Each of them is home to her, home defined differently in each instance, perhaps, but no definition lesser than the other.

 

____________________________________________________

 

_June, 2025_

The good news comes a little after nine a.m. in the morning. Sid is sitting on the back deck reading a book and keeping an eye on the pool where Anna is splashing and swimming laps. It’s peaceful, the light breeze stirring the leaves on the trees and send sun-dappled shadows down on the page. His attention is drawn from the written word when Geno slides open the screen door and joins him again on the deck. He’s clearly over the moon about something, grinning ear-to-ear and bursting with how much he wants to share whatever piece of news put that smile on his face. His own book lies forgotten on the table between their chairs, abandoned when he left to take the call.

“Guess what?” he announces. Sid flips the book jacket over to hold his place and sets the book aside.

“You’ve won a lifetime supply of Reese’s Pieces.” Sid tries.

Geno wrinkles his nose.

“That your weakness, Sid. Lame too. You spend too much time around Anna. Give lame Dad answers now. Sad.” He shakes his head in mock-mourning. “This better than Reese’s Pieces anyway.”

“Impossible.” Sid feigns astonishment.

Geno shakes his head, sauntering over to the chair and perching on the arm, facing Sid. 

“Was call from Nikolai. Best news. I am invited to training camp for Team Russia for Almaty Olympics.”

“Holy Fuck.” Sid says. He blinks in astonishment because… he wasn’t expecting this. Not after all of the shit that went down four years ago. Not after Russia had pretty much shut the doors on Geno altogether.

“I know, Sid.” Geno is beaming. “We play in Olympics again. Together. Against each other, yes. But… together. Is dream come true.”

“…Holy Fuck.” Sid says again stupidly, because he’s still processing how amazing this is. The only thing he can really think to do to express the way he feels is to kiss Geno, so he does, hauling him down until their mouths meet, balancing precariously over the furniture.

“That’s amazing.” Sid says, still stunned, but more and more excited as it begins to sink in. “I’m so happy for you, Geno. You don’t even know.”

“Oh, I know.” Geno says smugly. “I know.” He kisses Sid deeply, demonstrating how deeply, profoundly happy he is about this news.

 

Later on, they call Taylor and go out to dinner at Geno’s favorite sushi place to celebrate. Anna is practically bouncing with excitement ever since Geno told her the news, and truth be told, none of the adults are any less thrilled- they’re just more practiced at containing their enthusiasm. Geno tries to rein himself in, reminds them that an invitation isn’t the same as a roster spot, but Sid has every confidence that Geno’s going to be on the ice in Almaty.

They spend the meal laughing and talking, washing the sushi down with an exceptional wine their waiter was only too happy to recommend (Except for Anna, who sticks to iced tea. She’s also still not completely sold on sushi, and will really only eat the menu items that feature shrimp).

Over dessert, Taylor leans over and asks Anna if she wants to have a girls night sleepover for the rest of the night.

“Yes!” Anna exclaims, and she nearly starts bouncing again, tapping into the kid-like energy that she still has, even though she’s about to start eight grade in the fall and tries to pretend she’s mature beyond her years.

“Check with you Dads,” Taylor prompts, and Anna immediately whirls toward them.

“Please please please please please?” she implores.

“I suppose it’s fine.” Sid says, though he has to avoid Taylor’s eye and the unmistakable lascivious smirk she’s giving him. Whatever. He and Geno are responsible adults, and are perfectly capable of celebrating without needing to be all over each other the second they step through the doorway.

Except that as it turns out, that’s exactly what they do.

They have the house to themselves, Geno’s going to be an Olympian once again, and they’re loose and giddy enough from the wine that they don’t even make it through the door from the garage before they’re kissing, lush, indulgent kisses that drag on, melding into one another as they press up against every surface they can find.

First it’s Sid, backing them up against the door, and then Geno crowding Sid against the doorjamb to the hall until Sid flips them around, mouthing at Geno’s jaw.

“Fuck, Sid.” Geno groans, his hands running over Sid’s body. “Want you so bad. Could take you right here, against kitchen counter. Bet you’d like that.”

“Yeah.” Sid breathes, his voice faltering. “Yeah, I’d like that. But you know what I really want?” His mouth is right up against the shell of Geno’s ear now so that every word he utters whispers across Geno’s skin, makes his breathing hitch.

“What, Sid?” Geno growls, and the rumble of it in his chest transfers to Sid’s fingertips.

“I want to go up to our bedroom, and I want us to take our time. Want to spread you out over the bed and touch you. Want you to touch me. Want to draw it out until we can’t take it anymore, and then draw it out a little longer after that.”

“You make noise?” Geno asks, wrapping an arm around Sid’s waist, arching to drag their hips together which creates a slow slide of friction and makes Sid gasp at the contact.

“Yes.” He agrees, because he knows how much it turns Geno on to hear him moan.

“Promise?” Geno teases, shifting again and cupping Sid’s ass to increase the friction.

“ _Fuck_ yes.” Sid is even more emphatic this time and Geno chuckles. It’s on of Sid’s favorite sounds, the warm liquid tone of Geno’s laugh that settles into Sid’s skin, deep and sensual and something that Geno only unguardedly shares with the people he knows best. Sid laugh is goofy and infectious, and he gives it a little too readily, but Geno’s laugh has always been a more intimate sound. Like this, just the two of them, it sends pleasurable shivers down his spine, makes the anticipation build alongside the ache of _wanting_.

They make it as far as the foot of the stairs before Geno leans against the wall and tugs Sid to him, kissing lazily, like they have all the time in the world, with the corners of the picture frames on the wall digging into his shoulder.

Sid grins against the softness of Geno’s lips, because they do have as much time as they want. There are no games tomorrow, or practices, no teammates around, no family in the house, no one coming home from school or planning to drop by for one reason or another. Sid actually can’t remember the last time they had this. For a night, it’s like they’re in their twenties again, young and passionate and able to celebrate by losing themselves in each other- except now they have the wisdom and experience to realize what a gift a chunk of time like this truly is.

“Bed.” He insists, breaking the kiss to head up the stairs. Geno stays put, and Sid looks back to see him watching appreciatively.

“Good view.” Geno remarks with a twinkle in his eye before a question can be asked. Sid raises his eyebrows in mock consternation.

“Are you objectifying me?”

Geno shrugs.

“Maybe,” He says unapologetically. “Fans like your ass. People who are so not into hockey they not even know how to call a puck, they still like your ass. Only fair that Husband likes too, gets to look and plan all the things we are going to do tonight.”

“What are you planning?” Sid asks, because Geno talking dirty is usually pretty hot. Geno only shakes his head though, wise to Sid’s ways.

“You see.” He promises confidently. “You will like.”

“Okay.” Sid agrees, starting up the stairs once more. “But it’s going to have to wait until after I blow you.” He says it casually, because he’s actually pretty bad at trying to talk dirty- he doesn’t have the advantage of Geno’s deep voice and sexy-as-fuck accent, and it probably wouldn’t matter anyway, because when he tries too hard he just sounds awkward. He’s learned though that that he can still say something matter-of-factly and make Geno’s eyes widen in response.

A quick check over his shoulder assures him that he’s achieved that effect now. He catches the way that Geno has to pause and adjust himself before starting up the stairs and feels pretty damn triumphant.

He only lets Geno get as far as stepping across the threshold of their bedroom before he presses him against the wall, kissing him too quickly for reciprocation and dropping to his knees. He has Geno’s belt and fly undone in record time, has the crisp jeans and boxer-briefs shoved down his thighs with equal speed so that Geno’s erection is bobbing in front of him, flushed and eager, already leaking at the tip.

It’s only then that he slows things down, takes his time like he promised. He licks his lips, knowing that Geno will follow the action with hungry eyes. He strips off his own shirt, indicates that Geno should do the same. Their garments land together in a pile in the corner, but neither of them spare more than a glance because Sid chooses that moment to run his hands up Geno’s legs, letting his fingertips skate across Geno’s thighs, brushing the skin.

He trails his hands further up, slides the pads of his thumbs along the defined crease where hip and torso meet at a tortuously slow pace before finally leaning forward and wrapping his mouth around the head of Geno’s cock. After more than a decade together, Sid’s become a veritable expert in what Geno likes. He runs through a selection of the greatest hits now, teasing by twirling his tongue, licking and sucking and using his hands to press and stroke every place that makes Geno come apart.

He looks up as he takes Geno’s full length into his mouth, making sure that he can see how much Sid loves doing this, that he can get off on the sight of Sid’s lips, pink, spit-slicked, and utterly pornographic wrapped around him. He lets his eyes drift closed, enjoying the sensation of doing this, of feeling Geno fucking shallowly into his mouth.

Sid remembers when they first got together, how tentative Geno was, afraid that being too enthusiastic would risk injury to Sid’s newly-healed jaw. It had taken too long for Sid to convince him that he wanted this- the feeling of Geno pushing past his lips, further and further until he nearly choked, his nose pressed to the flat expanse of Geno’s stomach, tickled by coarse hair. Now, though, Geno never hesitates. He runs a hand through Sid’s hair, reaches down toward his cheek, long fingers caressing the hinge and line of Sid’s stretched jaw, his own mouth fallen open in pleasure. He keeps at it for long minutes, savoring the quiet words of encouragement that Geno makes, coming interchangeably in both English and Russian. Eventually Geno nudges him away, tells him to stop. Sid is reluctant, but Geno insists.

“You keep going Sid, not going to last. Really want to last,” he says roughly

Sid eases back reluctantly, and Geno pulls him to his feet, drags him in for a thorough kiss, sliding his tongue into Sid’s mouth as though he’s searching for any hint of his own taste on his tongue. His fingers come to rest in the small of Sid’s back, pulling their bodies together with subtle pressure. He kisses Sid like that for a while, until Sid loses track of how long they’ve been standing there half-clothed and completely wrapped up in one and other.

Eventually, Geno steps away, his fingers trailing a promise across Sid’s abs.

“Strip.” He commands softly. “Then lay on stomach. Close your eyes.” He nods toward the bed even as he himself steps away into their bathroom.

Sid does as he’s been directed, pulling the comforter back and stretching out. The sheets are smooth and cool beneath his skin, a counterpoint to the flushed heat of is body.

He hears Geno’s footsteps, nearly silent on the carpet, and feels the bed dip as Geno gets in. The weight of Geno’s body settles over his thighs, and then there’s the teasing slide of Geno’s arousal against the cleft of his ass. The next thing he feels is the drip and drizzle of liquid on his back. He starts, but Geno’s hands are there, soothing over his muscles, and he realizes belatedly that it’s only massage oil.

He settles in to enjoy himself, because Geno is good at this. His hands glide and knead over Sid’s back, loosening muscles and releasing tension he didn’t even realize he was holding. He finds himself humming his approval for Geno’s ministrations, outright moaning when Geno discovers a knot at the base of his neck and begins to work it out. He almost doesn’t care if they even get back to the orgasms part of the evening, because this feels unbelievably blissful.

Sid’s no stranger to massages- he gets beneficial, therapeutic massages from the trainers often enough when he strains a muscle or something. Geno’s style is much, much different than the trainers’ though. For one thing, Sid never feels this relaxed with someone who isn’t Geno touching him. For another, their touch isn’t quite as sensual or pleasurable (which is probably for the best). And for a third thing, he doesn’t recall the trainers giving quite as much attention to his ass as Geno is currently doing.

He fills his palm with each ass cheek, his fingers digging in to muscle and drawing out sensation, his thumbs dipping between the cheeks to tease. It only takes a minute or two for Sid to come right back around to intense, desperate arousal, wanting Geno to hurry up, to touch him, to spread him open and fuck him deep into the mattress. He asks for more, but Geno’s having none of it.

“Patience, Sid.” He commands. He moves a little though, inching back along Sid’s thighs, and Sid anticipates the snap of a cap and the slick drizzle of lube. It never comes though. Instead, he gets Geno’s lips on his thigh, a teasing, butterfly-soft kiss. The next kiss is placed on the swell of Sid’s ass, followed by a third one that edges closer to his spine. He can feel the whisper of Geno’s exhaled breath across his skin, shivers despite the fact that he’s not cold.

Then Geno’s fingers are back, stroking lightly down his spine, settling on his ass, spreading him open. He only has a few seconds to process the enjoyable sensation before Geno bends close, licking deliberately over his entrance. Sid gasps and thrusts his hips sharply into the bed because _fuck_ Geno has the most amazing tongue. It’s been awhile since they had time to indulge so thoroughly like this- long enough for Sid to have forgotten exactly how intense it feels to have Geno rimming him. Sensations rock through his body, bright and blinding, like fireworks going off in his head. His brain is at odds with itself, simultaneously running a million miles an hour but only able to form thoughts like _oh yes that that, like that, more, yes, please._ He can’t even articulate the words though, because the only thing he do while Geno is opening him up with the tip of is tongue is moan.

“Told you that you would like.” Geno murmurs against his skin, and Sid scrambles for the coherency to respond.

“Yes, God, _Geno_ ” he groans, not even caring if it sounds like he’s equating is husband with a religious figure. He gets lost in the sensation of Geno’s tongue circling and lapping and thrusting into him, opening him up and making him beg with wordless pleas and exultations.

It’s only after he’s reduced to a bundle of  raw, over-sensitive nerve endings and desperate need that Geno reaches for the lube, slicking up his fingers and pressing into Sid’s body. It’s not enough, not by a long shot, and Sid begs for another finger, arching his spine and pushing back, fucking himself on the single digit.

The stretch of the second finger is good, but it’s still not enough.

“More.” He urges, and Geno twists his fingers inside Sid’s body, scissors them to stretch him further.

“You want another finger?” Geno asks innocently, and Sid can’t say yes fast enough, even though what he really wants is Geno inside him, filling him, fucking him. Geno is too careful for that though. He won’t go there until they’ve reached three fingers, until he’s satisfied that Sid is completely ready for him.

Geno works a third finger into him slowly, letting him adjust. Sid tries to be patient, he really does, but he’s already so string out on need and arousal that he finds himself begging.

“Need you inside me,” he insists. “Want you to fuck me. Please, Geno.”

“Yes.” Geno agrees, his voice hoarse. “Turn over.” He eases his fingers away; Sid complies, hating the emptiness after so much stimulation.

It’s alright though, because Geno is kneeling between his thighs and pushing Sid’s legs up, slicking himself with lube and then finally, _finally_ pushing in, giving Sid the fullness he’s been craving.

Sid wants it rough, wants Geno to pound into him until he shouts. Before he can ask for that though, Geno finds another rhythm that works even better. It’s still fast, but not as deep as Sid craves, which is fine, because it’s the perfect angle. Sparks of pleasure shoot through him with every stroke that hits exactly the right place, and even though he tries to hold it back, it’s not long before he’s shouting out his release.

Geno slows, barely moving while he waits for Sid to come back to himself, to reach the point where the oversensitivity can begin to edge into pleasure again. They lock eyes, Sid nodding that it’s okay, he can take it, before Geno starts to move again. Geno comes a few moments later, his hand gripping hard on Sid’s hip as his arms tremble and he bites back a moan.

Afterward, he slips free, dropping a kiss onto Sid’s lips to silence his sound of protest and collapses on the bed beside him. He tugs Sid to fit up against him, and Sid lets himself be directed, still boneless and blissed out. They’re both a mess, and the wise decision would be to shower, but Sid just reaches for some tissues to clean off and lets Geno haul the comforter up over them.

“Definitely worth a Gold Medal.” Sid whispers tiredly into Geno’s chest. He feels Geno’s fingers card through his hair almost absently.

“I don’t know.” He counters teasingly. “You come first. Maybe means you win Gold for Sex. Consolation for when Russia win Gold for Hockey.” Sid can’t help laughing.

“Maybe we both win.” He suggests. “The Olympics _are_ supposed to be about international cooperation after all…”

Geno’s legs shift under the covers, tangling with Sid’s.

“Maybe.” He concedes. “All I know,” he continues with exaggerated seriousness, “Is you will have to sneak me into your room in Olympic Village for good luck blowjob before games. Husbandly duties.”

“I should have read that paperwork more closely, shouldn’t I?” Sid laments. “One of these days, you’re going to find something in that contract of yours that I’d actually be opposed to.

There’s a breathy snort of amusement from Geno at that as he nuzzles into Sid’s hair, his lips brushing across his forehead.

“Love you.” He says with sleepy tenderness, signifying the end to their conversation in favor of sleep. Sid echoes him, returns the words in a murmur against Geno’s sternum as he closes his eyes and half-remembered dreams of ice and cheers and sharing a medal ceremony with Geno.

____________________________________________________

 

_October, 2025_

Just before Halloween, Sid takes a hard hit during a game against the Sens and is laid out unconscious on the ice for a few seconds. He knows before he gets to the locker room what the upshot will be, and he's both angry and afraid, because he's been here before and knows how bad concussions can get. Beesmer gets suspended for eight games because of the dirty hit, which he fucking well deserves. It doesn’t help Sid though, because he's out for four and a half months this time. To be honest, it’s not even as bad as he had feared. Even more than before though, he gets to a point where he thinks he’s pretty much recovered…and then wakes up like the hit happened yesterday. He feels like a yo-yo.

It's also a little bit of a blessing in disguise though, because Anna is almost fourteen, and starting to make noises about wanting to go attend Shattuck like he and Taylor did. The thought fills him with dread, because the idea of her being anywhere other than right at home where she belongs is gut-wrenching. He wonders endlessly how his parents were ever strong enough to let him go like they did, and then Taylor a few years later. Geno’s reaction is even more extreme though. He wants to hear nothing about it, and gets intensely grumpy on the rare occasion the subject is broached.

Sid's time at home, though, gives him time to think about it, to see how much this means to her. He gets to go to more of her games on his good days. When he can’t watch TV, she watches for him and gives him the highlights. On the days he feels up to it, they hang out together and watch Geno play, especially when the Pens are on the road.

 The first time that they watched Geno play like that was difficult for Sid, and about five minutes into the broadcast, Anna got up from the armchair, grabbed one of the couch pillows and tossed it down beside him with a command to "Move over, Ba," before curling up under his arm, tucking her head against his shoulder, and turning her attention back to the game. Sid is reminded of how she did this as a little kid, and is struck by how quickly time has passed. It makes him realize though that they’re never going to lose her. She’s always going to be his Bear, Geno will always be her Papa, and Sid will always be her ‘Ba’ (even though he’s pretty much ‘Dad’ all the time though, unless she’s feeling sentimental.

And even though it’s hard, when Geno gets home, they talk, and Sid tells him he thinks they have to let Anna go to Shattuck. The idea of her being away from them is difficult beyond belief, but not as painful as the realization that if they don’t allow it, they’re holding her back from trying to live her dream. Geno sighs, and looks defeated, and Sid knows then that Shattuck is going to happen, even though they end up debating about it for another two hours.

____________________________________________________

 

_February, 2026_

The lingering concussion symptoms mean that he can’t compete in the Almaty Olympics, and that eats at him because he knows they’re probably his last. He’s 38 now, and the odds of still making the squad at 42 are slim. He ignores the doctors’ advice to take it easy though, and takes Anna out of school so they can watch Geno compete, because nothing is going to keep him from being there, especially not when he’s feeling fine but just hasn’t been cleared to play.

Geno doesn’t get much ice time, but Sid is so thrilled for him nonetheless, because he’s _out there_ , and Sid knows how much he needs this, to play for Russia again, to know that he’s not been cast aside by his motherland.

Geno makes the shifts he plays count, creating opportunities and scoring a few goals in the games against Canada and the Czech Republic. Russia loses to Sweden, but they beat Finland, which earns them the bronze.

They come back to Pittsburgh with another medal for the collection and Sid being cleared for contact, which means that they get to resume their ritual of taking the ice together last and everything seems right in the world.

It’s a good run that year, and they almost make the Cup Final, falling to the Rangers in overtime of Game 7 of the Conference Final. It stings just like it always does, but Sid is feeling great again, he’s playing great hockey, and the team is playing well. He doesn’t waste time sulking about the near-miss, because he and Geno are intent of making the most of the time they have with Anna before they have to take her to Shattuck at the end of the summer.

____________________________________________________

 

_August, 2026_

The day they drop Anna off at Shattuck, Sid is struck by how similar things look, until some bright new change like a new sign or an updated facade jars him. He’s so proud that his daughter is this bold and brave, and he tells her so when they say goodbye to her, which is possibly the hardest thing he’s ever had to do in his life. This is a bigger goodbye than a nine-day road trip, or even those summers in Russia. This is the kind of goodbye that comes from growing up; the kind that Sid’s been afraid of ever since she was little and he realized that she was going to outgrow piggyback rides someday.

He and Geno try not to fall apart and fail spectacularly, tearing up as they hug her and make her promise to call soon. It’s a good thing that Taylor insisted on coming along to help move Anna in, because she’s able to hold it together when they aren’t, and Geno doesn’t even argue when she takes the car keys to drive them back to the hotel.

____________________________________________________

 

_March, 2027_

In late February, Sid is hit again, and it seems relatively mild- there’s not even a penalty called on the play, but the concussion symptoms show up almost immediately. It’s worse that he could have anticipated from what seemed like such a minor hit.

It’s obvious from the beginning that it’s very, very bad, and the doctors say that this is it- it’s gotten too severe, and he’s not going to be able to keep playing. Every opinion he seeks, every battery of tests come out virtually the same- that he’s lucky he doesn’t already have permanent damage, the recurring dizziness and gaps of memory loss. That blood isn’t flowing right in his brain anymore, that this time isn’t like the others. That he needs to stop. He struggles with it, fights it, but deep down, he knows they’re right.

So just before Easter, he gives a press conference to announce that he’s retiring from hockey. It’s horrible, and awful, and the words stick in his throat because he doesn’t want to actually mean them, and it’s only the fact that he can turn around and catch sight of Taylor, fold himself into Geno’s arms, and haul Anna (who’s back home on break- he timed this deliberately) into the hug with them that gets him through.

____________________________________________________

 

_2027_

The hardest part of being retired is that he’s all alone in it, especially once Anna’s summer vacation is over and the NHL season starts up again. Geno is still playing, and it’s hard on them. Geno says sadly that nothing’s the same on the ice, and Sid can appreciate that, because even though he’s welcome at the rink, and in the press box at the games, even though he still gets interviewed occasionally, it’s not _remotely_ the same. It feels wrong, seeing the C next to a number that isn’t 87, and it’s like a physical ache to not be on the ice with the team, and it makes him awful to be around. He tries, and Geno tries, but it’s not working well.  
   
The one good thing is that he gets to go to Anna’s games again. He gets to see her, and take her and her teammates out to dinner, and watch practices. For the first time in his life, he has _time_ , and he gets to spend it making up for the things he and Geno had to sacrifice. But Geno doesn’t have the same luxury, and Sid knows that he’s both happy that Sid is able to spend time with Anna for both of them, and guilty that he isn’t doing the same. He’s jealous, even, and no matter how many things Geno handles with charm and ease, jealousy is not something he’s great at dealing with. Sid’s not so great with it either, and he can’t help feeling bitter sometimes that Geno still gets to play when he can’t. They muddle through, but it hurts, because Sid naively thought that problems like this would be behind them once they were married, that commitment and love alone could automatically solve everything.

They still love each other, and that makes it worse, because when they’re prickly and tense and grating on each other’s nerves, they know exactly what buttons to push to needle each other, or ship the other person out on a guilt trip of epic proportions. They fight and make up more time in the season and a half after the retirement announcement than they have throughout their entire relationship until that point. They spend more time apart from each other than ever before too, because they are literally and figuratively in different places. Geno still has hockey, and Sid doesn’t. Geno is still going on road trips, but Sid is either on his own or up in Faribault, and they can’t figure out how to navigate these strange waters.

____________________________________________________

 

_October, 2028_

There’s day early on in the ‘28-’29 season that Geno comes home after a game, worn out and troubled. He stops in the living room where Sid has been sitting because he doesn’t even go to the home games much these days, drops is bag with a sigh and says, “Can’t do this anymore.”

Sid’s heart seizes, because this is his worst nightmare. Geno leaving him. Giving up because Sid has made it too hard to stay. Because Sid has always been impossible, and Geno’s endless patience has finally run out.

But Geno keeps talking.

“Getting too old for this. Aches, pains. Not score like used to. Not skate like used to. Contract up next season, so maybe time to retire then. What Sid think?” And Sid thinks that that’s the best thing he’s ever heard. Maybe that makes him a bad person, but he wants to be at a point where he and Geno are on even footing again, not walking on a mountain of eggshells like they have been for what feels like forever now.

He also goes and does what he should have done ages ago and talks to Mario about it. They sit on the porch in their jackets and look out at the leaves that have turned colors, sip beers, and talk about how hard it is to not play anymore. How there’s a difference between thinking your career might be over after an injury, and _knowing_ that it is. And that’s something that Sid needs, talking to someone who understands.

Mario also tells him that he’s got some ideas on how to use him within the organization again in an official capacity if he’s ever interested. Player development and the like. Sid says he’ll think about it, and he does. He talks about it with Geno, laying in bed a few nights later, their hands twined together for the first time in way too long, and realizes that he really wants to do it. He feels giddy and excited, and that leads to the best, most intimate sex that they’ve had in a while, which is also encouraging. It feels like life is coming back together for him.

It’s as though knowing that there’s a clear end date on Geno’s career makes him appreciate how precious the time Geno has left as a Penguin is. He starts attending games again, but still carves out time to go and see Anna play. Geno comes along every chance he can, and life feels good again. They’re beginning to strike a balance.

____________________________________________________

 

_February, 2030_

The 2030 Olympics are strange because none of them are there. For the first time in two decades, there’s not a member of their family on the ice. It feels strange to sit at home, watching everything happen on the TV as spectators.

Taylor comes over to watch with them, and frequently brings David who, as an English Professor, is somewhat intimidated by watching hockey in their somewhat formidable company. He holds his own though, and seems eager to learn, asking questions and soaking in the information. Sid approves of him about as much as it’s possible for him to approve of anyone his sister is seeing romantically. Geno teases him about being overprotective, until Sid reminds him that Anna is going to bring someone home one day, and Geno’s sudden scowl looks absolutely thunderous. Sid feels he’s made his point.

It’s an odd feeling for Sid to realize that there are a couple of guys on the Olympic ice that he’s never played against, who have risen to prominence since his retirement. Time is passing faster than he’s realized.

____________________________________________________

 

_August, 2030_

The day that Anna starts college at the University of Minnesota, Sid and Geno are absolutely those parents who aim to buy out the entire stock of U of M sweatshirts and other apparel. They’ve both done so much in their lives, had so many opportunities, and he wouldn’t trade a minute of it, but he and Geno are on the same page here. Their baby girl is going to _College_ , and they’re so damn proud of her because it’s something neither of them ever did. She gives them “University of Minnesota Dad” mugs for Christmas, and all other mugs are moved out of rotation in favor of the Maroon and Gold ones.

Being retired means that they can attend almost every one of her games, which is something they’ve never been able to do before. Anna’s always understood, always know that this was the price of hockey, but there’s something wonderful about being there for her, cheering her on in person.

The focus has shifted from their hockey careers to hers, and that feels like it’s exactly the way things should be. Sid misses the little girl who used to play teddy bear picnic in a Pens jersey and a tutu and climb into their arms demanding to be flown around like an airplane, but what they’ve got now is pretty damn special too.

Anna takes her coffee like Sid and plays pool like Geno. She shops with Sid for practical things like hockey gear, but Geno handles pretty things, like earrings and scarves (it’s pretty much the way their Christmas shopping breaks down too. Taylor, mercifully, took over on the clothes shopping front years ago- otherwise Anna would have worn nothing but hockey jerseys and sweaters from the age of ten on, because Sid is hopeless with clothes and Geno is overprotective beyond belief, always fixing any boys who look too appreciatively with a long, chilling stare and would probably refuse to buy anything but turtlenecks and polar fleece.)

Anna and Geno cook for the enjoyment of it, and read books in Russian, and fish in the summers, but she and Sid have sports- outside of hockey there’s baseball and golf and basketball. They play one-on-one in the driveway whenever she’s home. Geno plays with them often enough, but Sid can’t count the times that Geno’s called them in for lunch or dinner and then looked on with amusement and annoyance while they stretch it out for one more basket, or catch, or shot. 

She speaks Russian with Geno, switching between languages with ease to include Sid (who despite years of Rosetta Stone still has only the most rudimentary grasp of the language). Her Russian heritage is near and dear to her heart, but when it comes to international tournaments, she plays for Canada because there’s a part of her that will never forget the way that Russia blacklisted Geno when she was younger. She tells them that she can forgive it, but she’ll never be able to let it go, so she elects to play for Team Canada. Geno kisses her forehead and says he understands.

“I’m still Russian though, Papa.” She tells him, snugging her head under his chin, and Sid can see how shiny and bright Geno’s eyes are when she says that.

“I know, Annoushka,” Geno whispers. “You are both.”

She’s growing up, but she’s their daughter through and through, and still the best thing that’s ever happened to them.

____________________________________________________

 

_2033_

And then, finally, there’s the day that they’ve all be working toward. Through all the years of hockey, and Shattuck, and NCAA, U-18 and U-22 training camps and tournaments, and the invitation to the Olympic boot camp, it’s what her dream has always been.

She calls them almost the minute she gets the news herself- she’s going to be a member of the Canadian Women’s Ice Hockey team for Salzburg 2034.

 He and Geno are almost as excited as Anna is. Geno lets out a whoop of joy and throws his arms around Sid, and they’re talking all over each other to say congratulations and make her tell them again every tiny, minute detail. On screen, Anna rolls her eyes at their antics, but happily launches into a spirited description complete with wild hand gestures.

____________________________________________________

 

_February, 2034. Salzburg, Austria_

And so they’re here in Salzburg, in another Olympic venue, only this time, it’s not Sid or Geno competing. It’s Anna. And somehow, this feels bigger and more important than their own Olympic medals and games. It feels _right_ to end up here, holding on to each other and watching the rink, waiting for the teams to take the ice and the puck to drop, waiting to cheer and scream. 

Sid knows that the cameras are probably on them, has heard terms like “Crosby-Malkin Olympic Dynasty” thrown around, has dutifully answered questions from interviewers and documentary film crews about how fortunate it is to have so much talent in one family. 

He can pretty much ignore that right now though, because this is what’s important; Geno’s hand wrapped around his, his mother patting his shoulder comfortingly from where their parents are sitting behind them, offering her silent support, and Taylor beside him fiddling with her water bottle while she texts with David, and the way he can feel his heartbeat pound, counting the seconds until he sees his daughter- _their_ daughter take the ice as an Olympian.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sure that the world will be a very different place 20 years from now than it is today. To that end, I’ve left many things intentionally vague (like who knows- maybe Anna calls home from college on a holograph machine).
> 
> Olympic host cities were selected based on cities which have had a pattern of submitting bids with varying degrees of success, and of course, those which have already been selected.
> 
> On Adoption: I took many creative licenses here. Probably more than I even realized.
> 
> On Media Attention: I’ve tried to make this as realistic as possible. It seems like two pro athletes having a secret family together would create a bit of a media sensation when the news breaks. American media culture being what it is, publications would definitely pay thousands of dollars for every picture of Sid, Geno, and Ana. Much of what is touched on here is drawn from actual accounts of celebrity parents like Jennifer Garner and Salma Hayek. If you want to gain a more thorough (and heartbreaking) understanding of this topic and the evolution of Paparazzi stalking children with famous parents, I highly recommend the documentary “$ellebrity” directed by Kevin Mazur.
> 
> On Russian Laws/attitudes toward homosexuality: I spent several disturbing days combing through message boards and comments on articles, not to mention talking to some Russian acquaintances to attempt to write from a place of truth on this matter. I certainly don’t wish to portray all citizens of Russia as thinking a certain way (as certainly, not all folks in my country think a particular way), but I wanted show some of the issues that exist. To that end, all troubling events and statements that Geno relays are taken from actual events.
> 
> On Frosty the Snowman: This is truth. You see, the man who wrote all of those classic Christmas specials (Rudolph, Frosty, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, etc.) lived in the town where I grew up and I, precocious child that I was, challenged him with this question one year. Without missing a beat, he gave this explanation. I couldn’t resist including it.


End file.
